


Y(Our) Dirty Little Secret

by Meemerleemer



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Age by age, Angst, Bullying, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, It is now, M/M, Modern AU, OH BY THE WAY, Oh also, Reddie, Slight Internalized Homophobia, Slow Burn, We love fluff, bill and bev are gonna date for a time but man i gotta love that sweet sweet benverly, but it's so hard to write dialogue between sEVEN PEOPLE, everybody lives au, i love all my kids equally and i mEAN THAT, is that a thing???, no demon clowns au, possibly some eventual smut??, publishing this was an impulse decision, slight homophobia, slow burns are so hard for me yall send help, these tags are a mess, theyre in love fam that's all i can say, who knows? not me heheheeuueu, yeah they're gonna get together eventually fam hehehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-11-28 22:00:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20973725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meemerleemer/pseuds/Meemerleemer
Summary: Over the years, lots is going on. High school, jobs, all that growing up jazz. But something else is going on, too. Richie knows what's up. Eddie knows something is up, but doesn't know what. But oh, it's gonna be good.Or: my bestie and i are psychotic and we write each other a lot of shit but we've never posted any of it... until now, at almost 1am. Danni, if you're seeing this, I am SO sorry





	1. Age 15 - Eddie

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever post, y'all. After years of writing so much trash for so many fandoms... now for the first time I'm sending it out into a void in which MAYBE someone will see it... but hopefully (?) not. 
> 
> This chapter is short but after looking at the other two segments I've written for this, short chapters are EVIDENTLY not going to be a trend here. 
> 
> sTaY tUNeD fOr cHaPTeR tWo: HaLLoWeEN!!1!!!!

"Get out of the hammock, dipshit, it's my turn!"

"Suck a dick, I'm not moving."

"I'll suck your mom's dick! Move!"

"Why do we even let them in here?" sighs Beverly, watching as a struggle ensues over the hammock between Eddie, who is currently inside the hammock, and Richie, who is clamoring over the hammock, attempting to push him out.

"I have no idea," replies Bill, smiling fondly at his two friends, cussing each other out as Richie squirms into the hammock.

"If you break the hammock, you both have to pay for a new one," Ben grumbles from where he sits with Stanley, who works quietly on a puzzle.

"If it can hold you, haystack, we'll be nothing in comparison," retorts Eddie, now nestled into the hammock with Richie, whose side he reluctantly tucks his legs into. Richie snorts.

"Eddie," Mike warns, but Ben just rolls his eyes and goes back to watching Stan, silently helping him by putting a puzzle piece in place from time to time.

"Look at you guys, learning to share," Bev teases, and Eddie makes a face. Richie just continues reading his comic book. Beverly wipes away a nonexistent tear. "You're growing up so fast."

"Next th-thing you know, they'll be living together," Bill snorts. He's been doing much better with his stutter, but he still struggles with S's and T's more than others.

"As if I'd let Richie's messy ass live in my house," Eddie grunts, and yelps when Richie knocks him in the head with a socked foot. "Hey!"

"Your mom would let me live there so long as I payed rent by-" Richie's cheeky response is cut off as he ducks to avoid a heel to the mouth, his glasses falling into his lap as Eddie's attack nicks him in the back of the head, instead.

"You're gross, Richie," Stanley speaks up, but the corner of his mouth is turned up just a little.

"Yeah, seriously," laughs Mike as he sips his soda.

Idle conversations filter around the clubhouse, and Eddie finds himself sinking deeper into the hammock, winding yarn around his fingers as he finger knits a pointless but entertaining rope of soft blue. He always thought for sure that Richie would call his hobby of knitting-related crafts gay, tease him about that somehow. But he never did, and nobody else in their group teased him about it, so he was unafraid of bringing a ball of yarn along with him when they hung out.

As he curls up into the hammock's smooth fabric, Eddie subconsciously enjoys the warmth of Richie's body next to his, especially in the cool of a late October afternoon. Richie grunts in complaint a little as Eddie shifts around, and has to lift his leg so that it overlaps Eddie's shoulder. After a while, Eddie gives up on straining his neck to avoid the extra physical contact, and lets his head fall on Richie's shin. After no complaint from the latter, Eddie lets himself relax a little. It's not long before he feels the pressure of Richie's arm on his own shins, using the angle of Eddie's bent legs to prop up his arm as he holds his comic book.

Eddie can't help but take a moment to think about how comfortable and cozy the whole position is. With Richie Tozier, of all people. He glares in thought, scrunching his face up at his hand as he distractedly weaves the yarn. He feels eyes on him, and looks to see Beverly watching him with raised eyebrows. He makes an almost accusatory "What?" face, and Bev just purses her lips with an amused look and returns to her conversation with Ben and Bill about something to do with the colour green.

"Hey Richie, can you come here for a s-sec?" Bill asks, and Richie groans, throwing his head back.

"What forrrr?" he whines. "I'm so comfy."

Eddie's heart inexplicably skips a beat at that.

"I need your opinion on which of these Halloween costumes I'd look best in," Beverly replies. "Ben and Bill can't agree on whether I should go as a witch or as Kim Possible."

"Why aren't you asking me?" Eddie asks, indignant.

"Because you have the fashion sense of a thirty years old father who does nothing but play golf," Richie snorts as he clambers out of the hammock.

"Fuck you," Eddie snaps, and Richie sticks out his tongue.

"You'd better let me back in when I'm done," Richie points a mockingly threatening finger at Eddie as he goes over to where Beverly has is swiping between a witch costume and a Kim Possible costume on her phone.

"Whatever," Eddie mumbles in response, but he knows he will let Richie back in, because he already misses the warmth.


	2. Age 15 - Richie - Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween with the Losers is always a fun time, even when it threatens not to be. Also: Eddie in a onesie. Thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, this one's a doOzY! It's hella long compared to the last one lol but it was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading, and happy spook month!
> 
> Also, I'm still figuring out this whole formatting thing so if things look wonky or different between chapters, bear with me, I'm sorry lmao, I'm trying
> 
> Bit of homophobia and internalized homophobia in this chapter, just so you know.

Richie looks at himself in Bill's mirror with a conflicted look.

"You look fine. Can we please leave?" Bill asks with a groan. "We're going t-to be late for s-school." 

"The glasses throw it off," whines Richie, taking said glasses on and off.

"Yeah, well, you can't s-see without th-them, s-so you're gonna have t-to live with it."

Richie's costume this Halloween is a mummy. His mom, being a nurse, was actually able to bring him a few rolls of bandages for him to use. It was a rare favor from his mom, who was usually far too busy to pay too much attention to him, so he was incredibly appreciative of it. Bill, a zombie groom, had already bought facepaint makeup in greys and other deathly colours, so Richie came over to give himself some dark circles. But his whole mummy costume just didn't seem so undead with _glasses_.

"Bill!" comes the high voice of Bill's younger brother, Georgie. He bounces into the bathroom in his little pumpkin suit. "We gotta go!"

"Yup, we're leaving now," Bill answers, and doesn't give Richie the option to object, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out the front door.

"Have fun, boys!" calls Bill's mom as the two older boys get on their bikes and Georgie gets on his scooter.

"Thank you, Mrs. Denbrough!" Richie grins back as he begins to pedal.

Bill's always been the only one in their group lucky enough to have a normal family. Sure, Stanley's comes close, but he's always said that his folks care more about being Jewish than about being parents. Eddie's mom is, of course, a mentally abusive psycho that, despite his jokes, Richie would never want to be involved with, and he doesn't understand how Eddie can care so much about someone who cares so little about him. He deserves better. Bev's mother died a long time ago, and her father is, in Richie's opinion, a disgusting demon literally sent from hell, even though Bev says he's not so bad when he's not drunk. Richie has never met Ben's parents, because they're only ever home on big holidays and rare occasions when they're not travelling for work, so Ben is more often left in the care of his grandmother, who's a good enough person, but she's from a different time and is a bit of a weirdo. Mike lives with his somewhat crazy uncle after his cocain addict parents died in a fire.

And Richie's own parents... well, he's not very close with them. It doesn't bother him too much, because he knows that somewhere, they care for him. His mother works twelve hour shifts and usually can barely say hi to him when she gets home, and his dad locks himself away in his study to do God knows what and never seems to have time for Richie, but he never fights with them. He sometimes wishes they could spend more time with him but over all, he knows he's luckier than Bev and Eddie, at least.

After a quick stop at Georgie's elementary school, Bill and Richie lock their bikes up at their middle school bike rack. It's a surprisingly nice day, with the sun warm on their skin and no wind to ruin it. It doesn't matter really, though, since they're about to spend the next seven hours inside a building.

"Look at you two undead clichés," Mike greets them with a sharp-toothed smile as Bill and Richie walk into the foyer. 

"You're one to talk," Richie scoffs jokingly as he claps Mike on the back. His friend is dressed as a red and black satin clad vampire, with sharp white fangs and faux blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"Lookin' good, though, guys," Mike steps back to admire the costumes once more. "Are those real bandages, Richie?"

"Yeah," Richie beams. "Mom brought them from the hospital."

Mike smiles at that. "That was nice of her."

Before Richie can agree, there's a loud and somewhat squeaky shriek from behind him as two hands grab his shoulders. The strangeness of the sound and the suddenness of the grip is enough to startle Richie into whipping around with wide eyes, his glasses falling down a little. 

"Ha! I totally got you!" Eddie cackles. He's dressed as a take on Frankenstein's monster, dressed in a purposely tattered suit, his face paled white with makeup, complete with light purple bruises and drawn on stitches. He's even got the bolts in his neck, held on with a clear plastic collar.

"Yeah, because it sounded like there was a moose getting raped behind me," Richie says without hesitation, and he's unable to stop himself from eyeing Eddie from head to toe. _Nope_.

"Oh, whatever. You're just embarrassed," Eddie huffs, and completely unwarranted, he reaches up and fixes Richie's glasses. Richie flushes, and hopes Eddie can't see under the bandages and makeup. _No. Shit, nope._

"Never seen a mummy with glasses," Eddie remarks with a smirk.

"Never seen a short Frankenstein's monster."

Eddie scrunches up his face. "Fuck you."

"That's your mom's job."

Eddie punches him in the shoulder, making Richie laugh. 

"Bill, nice tux!" Eddie moves on, grinning at Bill. "And you look positively dead." 

"Th-thanks Eddie," Bill smiles. "It was my dad's s-suit when he was younger,s-so it was s-sufficiently old."

"That's awesome, dude! And Mike, nice pearls." 

"Thankssssssss," Mike grins as he draws out the "s" in a hiss, showing off his fangs.

"How'd you do your makeup?" Bill asks as the four of them begin their walk towards his and Richie's locker hallway.

"Beverly helped me," answers Eddie. "She's here too, but she went to her locker first, and wanted to wait for Ben I think. She'll meet us outside one twenty-eight."

Sure enough, after Richie and Bill have dropped their stuff off in their lockers, Beverly and Ben greet them outside their social studies class, all smiles.

"Happy Halloween!" Beverly beams, holding out a small bag of little chocolate bars.

"Happy Halloween!" everyone repeats with smiles as they each take a treat.

"You look stunning!" Richie grins, and Beverly smiles and does a little twirl. "See? Didn't I tell you the witch was the way to go?"

"Told ya," Ben says to Bill, who just shrugs.

"I said she'd look good in both," he replies.

Beverly looks perfect in her long sleeve black dress with an orange ribbon around the waist and deep purple trim. She has the classic pointy black hat with a matching orange ribbon, and fishnet stockings paired with black low heel boots. Her red hair pulls it all together. She was lucky enough to catch her dad at a good time, and he agreed to get her the costume. Ben, on the other hand, is dressed as the monster from SCREAM, his mask currently pushed up on top of his head.

"Hey guys," Stanley says, joining the group at the door.

"Stan!" Bev smiles. "Saved you a KitKat."

"Thanks," Stan smiles softly, taking the chocolate. Everyone takes a moment to appreciate the rare smile.

"I like the costume, bro," Mike says, giving Stanley a friendly shove on the shoulder.

Stanley looks down at his skeleton suit. "You think so? I was worried it was too cliché."

"Nahh, it's a classic," Ben assures him. "Everyone loves a skeleton."

"Don't you kids have classes to get to?" comes the nasal voice of the science teacher, Ms. Rickards. 

"Yeah, in four minutes," Richie doesn't even hesitate in snapping back.

"Jesus, Richie-" hisses Eddie, and the teacher glares.

"Watch your tone, mister Tozier," Rickards hisses, and continues her way down the hall. Richie sticks his tongue out at her back, and everyone giggles. When she turns at the sound, they all look awkwardly away, eyes on the roof, floor, wall, anywhere that no human would be looking normally.

"Sh-she does have a point," Bill sighs. "We do kinda need t-to get to class."

"Fiiiiiiiine," Richie drawls, planting his hands on Stanley's shoulders. "Let's go then. It's English time." 

"I hate English class," sighs Eddie as he and Bill follow Richie and Stanley towards their English class.

"S-see you later guys," Bill says over his shoulder to Bev, Ben, and Mike, who have science class first. "Meet you all back here for next period."

The day goes by smoothly and mostly uneventfully. Their social studies teacher is dressed up as a dinosaur, and he stands on top of the tables, screeching and throwing candy at the students, which was fun, and the feature of many Snapchat stories.

Classes end, and kids rush out of the school excitedly, eager to get out and go get ready for trick or treating. The Losers are just as excited, not wasting any time getting their bags and heading out.

They have the same plan as every year: head to Bill's house, touch up their costumes as needed, hang out til six, and then get right into trick or treating. After hours of going door to door, it's back to the Denbrough's for a sleepover.

After picking up Georgie from his school, the group piles into Bill's house, voices loud as they laugh and chatter.

"Oh, it looks like the group has arrived!" laughs Mrs. Denbrough. "Hello, everyone!"

"Hi Mrs. Denbrough!"

"Didja miss me?" grins Eddie, folding his arms on top of the kitchen counter and grinning at her.

"I always miss you, Eddie," the soft, grey-eyed lady smiles.

"Because I'm your favorite, right?"

"Now, you know mothers never play favorites, Eddie. But you might be the only one who I'll let steal from the candy bowl."

"You won't let me?!" Bill asks, affronted.

"Ha!" Eddie whoops triumphantly, and Bill shoves him.

"Get out of here, go down to your movie room before I change my mind," Mrs. Denbrough chuckles. "If you're lucky I'll let you all take one treat each."

"I'm the only one allowed to fuck moms, Eddie, don't be a suck up," Richie whispers to Eddie as they all clump down the stairs. Both Bill and Eddie punch him. 

Bill's basement is big. It's just three rooms; a bathroom, a storage room, and what everyone calls the movie room. The movie room is a large, spacious room with a huge flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. Three large, round nesting chairs decorate the room in a semicircle, connected by hardwood tables for drinks and snacks. The floor is soft carpet, and later tonight, it will be covered in cozy blankets and plush pillows. A fridge and counter sit at the back wall of the room, and it's currently stocked with drinks and fruit platters. There's even ice cream.

"God, I love your house," Ben sighs, flopping onto one of the nesting chairs. "I love Halloween. I love Halloween at your house."

"Same," agrees Beverly, dropping her bag to the floor. "Such a damn haven."

"Totally," Eddie settles onto the floor, back leaned up against a second nesting chair, which Richie throws himself into.

"Make way," Mike announces as he joins Richie on the chair, heavily and rather like a blanket.

"Oof- Mike, you're gonna break my limbs," Richie grunts, moving so that Mike has room.

"A rat could break your limbs, you twig," says Eddie, and Richie flicks him in the head.

"Unwarranted attack."

"I th-think I need a t-touch up on my makeup," Bill says, checking his face in his phone camera.

"We can do that closer to trick or treat time," Bev says as she moves to let Stanley sit on the couch between her and Ben. It was a completely innocent and unknowing gesture, but Richie watches as part of Ben's soul dies, and feels for him.

"What movie are we gonna watch first?" Stanley asks as he settles in between Beverly and her secret admirer.

"Horror! Horror! Horror!" chants Richie, raising himself up, using the head of a loudly complaining Eddie as a tool.

"First, get off, and second, scary movies come _after_ trick or treating. Before bedtime," Eddie states, swatting away Richie's hand. "We all know that."

Richie groans as the rest of the group agrees. "Fine. Then what movie do we watch before trick or treating?"

"A classic?" suggests Mike. "Like Ghostbusters?"

"Verging too close to 'scary movie' material," Ben shakes his head.

"St-star Wars?" this come from Bill.

"If you watch one, you gotta watch them all," disagrees Richie. "We should watch Shrek." 

"Absolutely not," says Eddie, and Beverly has to agree, even after Richie gasps so violently he starts coughing.

"Something old, maybe?" Stanley offers. "Like Zorro."

"I don't th-think I have th-that on DVD, and it's not on Netflix," replies Bill. 

"Guys, come on!" Beverly laughs. "Obviously we have to watch a Disney movie!" 

Ben smacks his forehead. "Duh! Bill, bring forth the Disney box."

Bill obliges, and everyone watches as Beverly scans the box. After a moment she smiles and reaches in, pulling out,

"The Rescuers!" she announces, and everyone applauds. 

"An excellent choice, Madame!" Richie says in a horrible accent. 

"I haven't watched that movie in ages," Mike chuckles. "But damn was is good."

"You always know just what to do, Bev," Ben tells the girl with a softness everyone recognizes.

"Thanks, new kid," Bev grins, and turns to put the disc into the DVD player.

Ben watches her with a dreamy expression that Stanley raises an eyebrow at, Eddie doesn't even notice, Bill frowns at, and that Richie can't help but tease, even if he's a little empathetic.

"Yo, Ben, haystack," Richie says in a hushed enough voice so Beverly doesn't turn around. He mouths the word "Drooling" and mocks wiping at his chin. Ben snaps his mouth shut, glaring a little. Stanley huffs in amusement and Bill snorts. Eddie looks between Ben and Richie with a confused look before shrugging it off and moving on. 

The room is soon filled with the sound of Disney movie trailers, before Bill wins the struggle with Richie over the remote and skips the Fast Play, starting the movie.

"How does this look?" Mike asks, turning away from the mirror with fresh bright red drips drawn down the corner of his mouth. After a nostalgic watching of The Rescuers and a filling feast of pizza, the Losers Club is all crowded in and a around Bill's downstairs bathroom, touching up any makeup that wore away during the day.

"Looks perfect, Mike," Bev replies with a smile, and Stanley agrees.

"I think everyone will even be able to see it after it's dark," he says, and Mike grins.

"Guys, come onnnn," Eddie whines from outside the bathroom. "We have to leave soon and I still need to fix my face!"

"Ain't no fixing that, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie pokes, and Eddie makes a face at him.

"S-sorry Eddie, but a bunch of my makeup rubbed off and Bev needs t-to get th-the blending right," Bill answers as Beverly pats a white-caked sponge onto his face.

"Hold still!" she chides, and Bill apologizes.

Eddie groans loudly. "I'm not gonna have time!" 

"Oh, quit your grumbling, I'll do it," Richie rolls his eyes and snatches Eddies small facepaint makeup palette from his hands. "Stan, toss me that sponge."

"You're gonna fuck it up!" Eddie huffs, but he follows Richie to sit on the ground further away from the crowd.

"Excuse you, I could do makeup for the Cirque du Soleil if I wanted to," Richie retorts, and Ben audibly laughs. "Fuck you, haystack!"

"Just try, at least," sighs Eddie. 

"You must think I'm the shittiest friend in the world," Richie huffs, and Eddie doesn't reply as he starts dabbing the sponge into the white makeup. 

"Ow, dickhead, not so rough," Eddie yelps when Richie jabs the sponge over his eyelid just a little too hard. Beverly snorts loudly in the background, and Richie's face heats up.

"Sorry," he mumbles, and lessens his vigor.

He notices Eddie fidgeting in his lap as he patches up the makeup, and wonders if he's made Eddie uncomfortable. He hopes not.

"Make sure you do the bruises too, and go over the stitches," Eddie instructs him. 

"Yeah yeah, I got it." _Guess he's fine._

Richie rotates the sponge so he can press it into the purple makeup square, and begins to gently blend it into the white where remnants of purple already are.

"Does it look good?" Eddie asks.

Richie acts annoyed. "Yes Eds, it looks perfect. Damn, a little trust here."

Eddie huffs and passes Richie the eyeliner pencil he's used to draw on the stitches. Richie takes it and uncaps it. "Where'd you get this?"

"I, uh," Eddie shifts a little. "I took it from my mom's room. She doesn't use it."

"Probably for the best," Richie jokes, and Eddie giggles. Richie has to try not to show how he'd like to react to that. "Now hold still." 

He braces Eddie's face in one hand, tracing the fading lines of cartoonish stitches on Eddie's forehead and jaw. When he's done, he instructs, "Turn," and Eddie turns his head so Richie can trace the third set of stitches on his cheek.

At this angle, Richie has to brace Eddie's head by holding the back of his neck. It suddenly feels more intimate, with the short hair at the back of Eddie's neck managing to get between Richie's fingers. It makes Richie's ears feel hot, and his skin burns a little at every point of contact. He wonders if he should move, but it would probably be awkward, especially since Eddie doesn't seem to notice anything.

"Something wrong?" Eddie asks, a little worried. 

"Oh, nope, just wondering if I could get away with writing 'dick' on your face," Richie replies, realizing that he hadn't started drawing yet.

"Richie!" Eddie cries, lurching away from Richie, who laughs.

"I'm kidding, Eds, relax," he chuckles, and Eddie glares, but he himself returns his head to Richie's hand.

"Fuck you," he mutters.

"That's your mom's job."

"You already used that joke."

"Shit."

Eddie smiles, and Richie swats his cheek. "You're messing up my canvas."

Eddie rolls his eyes and relaxes his face again so Richie can finish the work. When he does, Eddie pulls out his phone to check his face in the camera.

"Whaddya think?" Richie asks with a grin. "Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Eddie closes his phone and stands up, satisfied. "Thanks, Rich."

Richie smiles. "My pleasure."

"Just in t-time," Bill says, stepping out of the bathroom, makeup successfully blended.

"Shall we go?" Mike asks, looking around for approval.

"Hell yeah!" Ben whoops. "Let's goooo!"

Trick or treating, as always, is going _awesome_. Bill's neighborhood always has tons of Halloween spirit, one house even going so far as to let you inside to go on a mini haunted house trip from their front door, through the living room and kitchen and out the back door to the back yard, where you get to choose a jumbo sized chocolate bar.

They go to three neighborhoods every year. Bill's first, then the one next to it, which is Stan's neighborhood, and then back through Bill's to get to the one near the school. They're almost done with Stanley's neighborhood as they each throw their first pillowcase full of candy into the back of Mrs. Denbrough's van, who parks it in each neighborhood before going off with Georgie and his friend Les. The rule is that they have to be done with their first pillowcase before 8:00, because that's when Mrs. Denbrough takes the van back home. They always are.

The group is laughing as Stanley is sandwiched between Mike and Bill in a hug after he shrieked like a little girl when a supposedly fake zombie scarecrow was suddenly not so fake.

"Fuck you guys," Stan mutters as Bill and Mike hang off his neck, wheezing.

"I will never get over your scream, Stan, I swear," Richie cackles, and Stanley glares. "You scream like a _girl_."

"Bev screamed too!" Stan whines, shaking off Bill and Mike.

"Sure, but I _am_ a girl," Bev laughs. Stanley groans.

"Here, you can have my Mr. Big that I got from there," Ben offers, plopping it into Stan's bag. "I don't like them anyways."

"Like a _heathen_," hisses Eddie, and Bill chuckles.

"Says you, you twizzler-hating psycho," Richie accuses, jabbing Eddie in the side.

"Twizzlers are disgusting, and they are so grimy. They make your hands so sticky that you pick up lint like a piece of tape."

"Oh my god, they do not," cackles Mike, and Eddie sticks out his tongue. _God, he's cute,_ thinks Richie, before visibly wincing. _Fuck that, stop, you weirdo._

"You good?" Bev asks quietly, sidling up next to Richie as they round the corner to the next house. "You look like you got hurt or something."

"I just think there's a rock in my shoe," Richie replies, hopping to a stop. "One sec."

Beverly raises an eyebrow as Richie takes of his shoe, shakes out nothing, then puts it on with a grin. "All better."

"Right," she nods, and Richie just keeps grinning until they move on.

They're all laughing again after Ben trips over a skull light in someone's yard and breaks it, and they all run away cursing under their breath. It's soon time to head over to the last neighborhood for the final hour or so of their night.

"We ready t-to head over t-to Forest Ridge?" Bill asks.

"Stan, we hit all the good houses?" asks Eddie.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be pissed if I find out we missed a killer spot," Richie feigns warning.

"We didn't," Stan rolls his eyes. "We're good to go, Bill." 

"Let's go then!" Beverly cheers, and so the group begins making their way down the dark, busy street towards the way they came. 

The street by the strip mall somewhere between Bill and Stan's neighborhood isn't very busy, and it's the quickest route to Forest Ridge. It's a little spooky, but there are still a few people in costumes taking the route as well, so the squad just sticks close together and moves quickly.

They're just contemplating getting free Halloween slurpees from the Seven-Eleven on the corner when an unwelcome and familiar voice rings in their ears.

"Well! If it isn't the Losers of Derry."

Everyone turns to see Derry's resident group of bullies, led by non other than Henry Bowers, the jackass himself. Behind him are his little cronies, all closer to the age of the Losers than to Bowers himself, since they're the only people eager to hang out with him and become "cool." This includes Troy, Cindy, and Greta, from school, and the two Delaney brothers who never go to class, Mitch and Orsen. They don't even have costumes, just all black outfits.

"What're you doing out here without your special ed supervisors?" Bowers smirks.

"None of us are in special ed, asshole, and you shouldn't joke about that," Beverly grits, arms folded.

"Shut up, slut," Greta snaps, and Bill has to hold Beverly by the wrist to stop her from acting.

"Isn't the Jew here in some special math class?" Troy shoves Stanley aside the head. Stanley just glares, not saying anything.

"He's in a higher level of math, dipshit," Richie growls.

"It means he's in a class the rest of you were too dumb to get into," insults Ben. Beverly shoots him a look of concerned warning.

Bowers turns on Ben, taking a step closer and raising a finger. "If I were you, Fat Boy, I wouldn't go insulting someone you can't take on."

Ben shies back, eyes dropping. Mitch steps towards Eddie.

"What's the matter, girly boy?" he grins through dirty teeth and weasely eyes. "You look a little shaken up."

"It's just my facepaint making me look pale," Eddie replies, quietly but steadily. "Or was your peabrain too stupid to know that I was wearing facepaint?"

Mitch snarls, and Bowers pushes in front of him, towering over Eddie's small form. Richie goes tense, flinches. Should he react somehow...?

"I'll tell you the same thing I told your pig friend, Wheezy," grunts Bowers, backing Eddie up by a chain link fence. "Don't go starting something you can't finish."

"Little prick," laughs Cindy, and Bill glares at her. She just sneers.

"Guess you're the next victim of the whore, huh?" Greta asks him with a smirk, eyeing his hand on Beverly's arm. 

Bowers is still focused on Eddie. "Got something to say?"

"F-fuck you," Eddie rasps, swallowing thickly and looking down. His lip is shaking, and Richie's jaw tightens.

Henry grabs the front of Eddie's shirt, fast as a snake strike, shoving him against the fence, Eddie's candy bag dropping to the ground. Richie lunges forward, not exactly sure what he expects this to accomplish.

"Get off him!" Richie shouts, but Troy steps in front of him.

"Richie!" Stanley warns, but Richie doesn't move.Bowers, however, lets go of Eddie. In favor of advancing on Richie.

"What's this? Got yourself a boyfriend, Wheezy?" Bowers seethes, moving Troy aside. The words shoot through Richie like a spear, and he backs up as Bowers advances.

"Don't- don't call him that," Richie stammers, trying to hold Henry's eye contact.

"Leave him alone," Beverly says, desperation creeping into her voice.

"What's wrong four-eyes?" spits Bowers. "Worried I'm gonna fuck up your little boy toy?"

"Fuck out of here, Bowers!" Eddie's back, yanking on Henry's arm.

Henry immediately whirls on him, grabbing him by the shirt with both hands and slamming him so high up against the fence that they're eye level.

"I warned you, you fucking twink," Bowers roars, and the yelp that escapes Eddie's throat is enough to make Richie choke on a cry.

"Put him down!" he yells, voice cracking. There's chaos as Greta spills Mike's candy and Beverly cries for both Eddie and Ben, and Bill moves to shove Orsen away from Stan. Troy pushes Richie to the ground before he can get to Eddie, who cries out for mercy this time.

"Please, p-please let go, let go," he shudders, gripping Bowers' arms, struggling to get free.

Henry looks like he's about to say something more, then Cindy calls out, "Henry, there are people coming out of the Dairy Queen,"

"Shit," Bowers hisses. He glances over his shoulder at the mentioned family, a mother, father, and three young children, then turns back to Eddie, dropping him to the ground. Eddie's knees buckle when he hits the dirt, and he collapses.

"You're fucking lucky, girly boy," Bowers tells him, looming over Eddie. "You better hope that you're smart enough not to start something next time, because next time? I'll be guaranteed to finish it."

Eddie says nothing as Bowers motions for his gang to leave, and they all hurry off in their pack, Greta spitting at the ground next to Eddie. 

Ben helps Richie back to his feet, but the moment he's standing, Richie is rushing to Eddie, kneeling on the ground again.

"Are you okay?" Richie asks, not sure if he should lay a hand on his arm or something. "Did he hurt you at all?"

"N-no," Eddie replies a little shakily, avoiding eye contact. "I'm... I'm okay."

"You s-sure?" asks Bill, who has gathered around like the rest of the group. 

"Yeah," Eddie nods, but he's clearly just as shaken up, if not more so, than the rest of them.

Richie wraps one hand around Eddie's forearm and places the other one on his elbow, helping him stand. Eddie holds onto Richie's arm for a little longer after he's standing, steadying himself.

"Hey, Eds, you don't have to go to Forest Ridge if you're not feeling it anymore," Richie tells him gently.

"Yeah, maybe we should ditch the last neighborhood," Mike agrees.

Eddie shakes his head. "No, I... I'm fine. I don't wanna ruin the rest of your guys' night."

"They- they can keep on going," Richie says quickly, and his heart skips a little. "I'll head back to Bill's with you, if you want, and they can join us later." 

Eddie meets Richie's eyes with a soft sort of look, one that's confused but curious, and somewhat grateful and willing. "I-"

"No way!" Ben interrupts. "We're not gonna ditch you. We don't have a problem with heading in an hour or so early. Right guys?"

"Of course!" Beverly smiles as others concur. Richie is just a teeny, tiny bit disappointed.

"Yeah, just means we can watch more movies," agrees Stan.

"Don't s-sweat it, Eddie," Bill pats Eddie's shoulder. "We've probably already got t-too much candy."

Eddie smiles. "You're sure? Thanks, guys."

"No problem, man," Mike replies. "Now can someone help me pick up my candy that that bitch spilled everywhere?"

Everyone laughs, and Stan and Bill go to help Mike while Richie, Ben and Bev help Eddie. Once the candy has been successfully recollected, the Losers Club makes their way back to the Denbrough's, smiling with their arms linked.

"You're back awfully early," Mrs. Denbrough says when the group walks through the door.

"Yeah, we decided we wanted extra t-time for movies," Bill explains, which isn't entirely a lie, but it isn't entirely the truth either. 

"Hello, kids," greets Mr. Denbrough, now back from work. "How went the trick or treating? I saw that once again you've filled at least one whole pillowcase," he gestures to where his wife dropped off the kids' first pillowcases. 

"Yep," Ben grins, holding up his second pillowcase. "And still we have more."

"Remarkable," Mr. Denbrough says, and he swipes a Snickers from his his son's bag, to which his son protests with a shout and a swat.

"You're worse than they are," Mrs. Denbrough chides her husband with a smile as he stuffs the chocolate bar into his mouth. She smiles back to the kids as they head downstairs. "Have fun with your movies, and don't scar yourself too badly."

"Will do, Mrs. Denbrough! Thank you!" Mike calls back.

Richie notices Eddie's quietness. He's usually the one to beam and smile at Mrs. Denbrough, but now he kept his eyes down, fidgeting with the edges of his pillowcase. Richie kind of hates it. 

"I bet I got more Twix bars than you," he says to Eddie, elbowing him as they reach the movie room.

Eddie's already perking up. "No way, Tozier. I always get the most Twix."

"Well let's find out then, bitch," Richie challenges, throwing himself onto one of the nesting chairs with his two pillowcases.

"You're on," Eddie grins as he plops down on the floor next to Richie's chair.

It's a stupid competition that has nothing to do with skill or anything, and Richie knows this. It's pure luck. The others roll their eyes as the two of them dig through their bags and set aside any Twix bar they find, but they don't care how foolish it is, because Eddie's smiling again. 

The counting continues while Bill and Stanley go upstairs to make popcorn and get glasses for everyone's drinks. Ben, Mike and Beverly watch in idle amusement as Richie struggles to find more Twix bars in his bag, but can't. 

"Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight," Eddie plops each Twix bar into his pile with a smirk as Richie watches in defeat. "Thirty-nine." 

"Fuck you," Richie grumbles, but he's not actually upset by his loss, because Eddie beams triumphantly.

"What'd I tell you, Trashmouth?" grins Eddie. "Always."

"Yeah, whatever. You were just lucky."

"Who won?" Stanley asks as he and Bill return from the kitchen.

"T-take one look at the t-two of th-them, S-Stan, and guess," chuckles Bill, and Stan laughs as Richie sulks and Eddie puffs out his chest. 

"It was Eddie," they all say at once.

"All right, losers, let's go wash off your makeup and change out of your costumes so that we can watch the movie in comfort," Beverly says, standing up.

Eddie shifts a little, eyebrows pinching. Richie wonders why, but gets up and grabs his bag. "Dibs on bathroom!"

He pushes past Mike to get to the bathroom first, and everyone else groans loudly, lining up behind the closed door.

"Can we at least wash makeup off all at once?" Stan complains, thunking his head back against a wall.

"Not with me!" Richie's voice says, somewhat muffled by the closed bathroom door.

Richie washes off his smudgy dark circles and gray makeup. It takes a while for him to peel off all the bandage, and everyone informs him of this, but he finally exits with a smug grin and a pair of black sweatpants and a muscle-tee with some band album cover on it. 

Stanley graciously lets everyone with makeup wash their faces before kicking them out to change into his blue and black pyjama bottoms and green waffle tee. Mike only takes a moment to change into some shorts and a sport shirt, and Bill is also quick to change into his t-shirt and pyjama pants. Ben is in star wars pyjamas, and Beverly comes out in a comfy white and purple shirt and pink flannel pyjama bottoms, and Eddie goes in last. 

While Eddie's changing, Ben scrolls to the genre section of Netflix and moves down to "horror." He surfs through the different movies while everyone gives their opinion.

"Winchester?"

"Not scary enough."

"Coraline." 

"That's literally a kids movie!"

"Yeah, a kids movie that gave me nightmares for years!" 

"Pussy."

"How about Scream?"

"Honestly, th-that movie is kinda lame."

"GASP!"

"Don't _say_ 'gasp,'"

"Hereditary!"

"FUCK no!" 

"Little Evil?"

"Nope. Fuck clowns. I don't do clowns."

"Ugh, you're all making this so hard!"

"Why do we have to watch a horror movie?"

"Tradition, Stan."

"How about The Exorcism of Emily Rose?" Beverly suggests. "It's based off of a real exorcism. I learned about it on-"

"BuzzFeed Unsolved!" Ben finishes, and Bev grins.

"Yeah!"

Richie shrugs. "I'm down. Demons are cool."

"I've heard it's good, why not?" Mike nods.

"I guess if we have to," Stanley sighs, and Bill pats his back.

"S-sure, let's s-see what Eddie th-thinks," Bill says.

"I'm okay with that," comes Eddie's voice from the doorway. Everyone turns to look, falling silent.

"Eddie," Ben's voice is slow and trying very hard to stay even and not laugh. "What the fuck?"

Eddie is shuffling into the room, chewing his lip and avoiding eye contact. It's clear he's trying to act normal, but he's fidgeting again and shifting his weight.

"Is that... a onesie?" Stan asks, raising an eyebrow with a small quirk of a smile.

"It's all I have!" Eddie defends, slumping. "My mom got rid of my pyjamas and thought that THIS was a suitable replacement."

"Aw, Eddie, don't worry. It's cute," Beverly smiles. "Right Richie?"

Richie can barely answer. Cute is an understatement. Eddie looks god damn fucking adorable in this light blue onesie with pink cuffs (and FOOTIES), with sleeves that are a just little too long. His hair is messier than it's normal clean, precise style, which is adorable, and Richie wishes Eddie would put up the onesie hood just so he can see what it looks like.

"Yeah. Yup, classic Eddie," Richie manages to say, and Eddie pouts, face red. _God, what the fuck?_ This kid has no right to be as cute as he is. 

"Let's just start the movie," Eddie grumbles, walking over and sinking down into the same nesting chair as Richie, who can't help but watch him the whole time.

"Don't stare," says Eddie, face growing even more red. "I'm thoroughly embarrassed already, so just enjoy it and don't make it worse."

"Oh, I'm enjoying it," Richie replies mindlessly, but fortunately (unfortunately?) Eddie doesn't take it the way it could have sounded, instead just glaring and folding his arms, curling up on the opposite side of the chair.

"God, I'm going t-to get s-so fat," Bill laughs from where he sits between Stan and Beverly on the leftmost chair pulling up his pillowcase full of candy and preparing to dig in.

"Yeah, be careful or you'll start to look like me," Ben teases from the middle chair with Mike. 

"Ben!" Beverly scolds, and everyone laughs.

"Wait, pause the movie," Eddie says suddenly, and Ben obliges with confusion. Eddie sneezes. "I uh, my allergy medication is wearing off. Do you have anything, Bill?"

"Oh," Bill stands. "Right, you're allergic t-to my cat. Yeah, come on, I sh-should have s-some life brand pills in th-the kitchen."

"I should probably take one too," Mike says, and he stands as well. "Just in case."

Richie watches as Eddie follows Bill upstairs, and audibly sighs when he's out of sight. Beverly and Stanley both turn to look at Richie from across the room with identical expressions. Richie doesn't quite get the message behind the expression, but he doesn't like it.

"What?" he demands. Instead of answering, Bev and Stan turn to each other, exchanging a look, and Stan cracks a smile while Beverly giggles.

"Bev, come look at this!" Ben says, beckoning her over to his chair. She complies with a smile, moving to look at something on his phone and laugh, and everyone moves on.

Ben is thriving under Beverly's attention while Stan scrolls through the plot of the movie so he's not caught off guard by anything (but God knows he will be anyways). Richie bitterly eats a Reese's peanut butter cup and contemplates what Stan and Bev were up to. He shakes it off when Eddie returns, nose tipped red from blowing out his one legitimate allergy that wasn't a fake worry his mom drilled into his head. 

"All drugged up?" Richie asks him, and Eddie laughs a little.

"Yup." 

Eddie plunks back down onto the chair with Richie, pulling his pillowcase up into his lap. "Now, I can only eat seven pieces of candy before I risk getting cavities. But I can only eat six if one of them is gummies, because-"

Richie groans so loudly it cuts Eddie off, and Ben and Mike laugh.

"My dear Eddie Spaghetti, eat as much of it as you want!" Richie says to him. "It's Halloween!"

Eddie frowns. "But my mom said-"

"Fuck what your mom said, just enjoy yourself," Stan responds bluntly, and Eddie blinks in surprise.

"It's okay, Eddie, you can brush your t-teeth before bed and you'll be fine," Bill tells him, and Richie can see Eddie's brain thinking as he scrunches up his face.

"Well... I'll just see how I feel," he replies, and Richie considers this a victory.

As Bill sits down next to Stan, Beverly gets up from her spot next to Ben and moves to sit on the other side of Bill, who smiles at her. Ben watches her go wistfully, and Richie sighs to himself. He knows how Ben feels to want someone so out of reach.

_Except for that Ben likes who he's supposed to like,_ Richie thinks to himself, casting a glance at Eddie, who's struggling to open a Dinopop. _I'm not supposed to like Eddie. I'm supposed to like Beverly, like all the other boys._ He looks at Stan. _Aside from Stan. I wonder who Stan likes. Bill? No... Stan's normal. Maybe Stan doesn't like anyone. I wish I could be like Stan._

"Fucking- Rich, can you help me with this?" Eddie says suddenly, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. He's holding out his lollipop.

"What, can't manage it yourself? I think the onesie is making you more like a toddler than you really are," teases Richie, but he takes the candy.

"Shut up," Eddie rolls his eyes, then they go wide with horror as Richie bites at the wrapper. "What are you doing?!"

"Opening it," Richie replies around the plastic clenched in his teeth. He grunts as he tugs a little harder, then the wrapper tears open. "Aha! Success!" He tugs at the rest of it, unwinding it and pulling it off before handing it back to Eddie.

"You could have broken a tooth," Eddie scolds as he takes the lollipop back. "Idiot."

"That's no way to say thank you!" Richie clutches his heart like Eddie has offended him in the worst way possible.

Eddie sighs loudly. "_Thanks._"

"You're welcome."

"Play the movie, Ben!" calls Mike as Stanley turns off the lights, and as the opening credits roll, Richie takes advantage of the darkness to let his eyes rest on Eddie as he sticks the Dinopop in his mouth and acts like he's ready for the movie. Richie knows that Eddie is squeamish, and smiles at the thought of Eddie shrieking in terror at a jumpscare on the screen. But then Eddie is turning to look at him, probably sensing his gaze, and Richie quickly looks down into his pillowcase of candy, pretending to be far more facinated by the variety of sweets there than just how pretty Eddie's profile is.

The movie plays in the dark, enhancing the fear factor. The group is quite talkative during movies, especially Richie, who cracks jokes all the time. But horror movies are usually a little more quiet on their part.

This movie starts out pretty slow. Lots of talking between people who aren't scary and mostly talk about stuff that won't be understood until later. It isn't until about thirty minutes in that things start getting creepy, but from there on out, everyone is at least a little on edge. Ben has his blanket up to his nose, prepared to hide his eyes. Mike's face is pinched a little, like he'll flinch at any moment. Beverly is pressing into Bill's side, her face peeking over his shoulder and her hands. Bill is obviously flustered by this, and would probably be awakardly giddy if it weren't for Stanley on his other side, probably using Bill as a shield even more than Bev.

And Richie? Richie thinks he's imagining the way Eddie seems to be inching closer to him, lollipop finished, now moved on to Swedish Berries. Eddie's always been a little jumpy during horror movies. He usually has a pillow to cling to and hide his face behind, but not today. So when the first jumpscare of the night pops up on the screen, half a dozen shouts sound around the room, and Eddie's voice is among them. He jumps with a yelp, and before Richie can even process it, Eddie's no longer far away on the chair, and is instead clinging to Richie's arm, cheek pressed into his shoulder.

Richie doesn't hesitate in saving himself from his own bewilderment. "Seriously guys? That whole scene led up to a jumpscare and it still got you?"

The remark was aimed mainly at Eddie, but Ben answers anyways. "Cut us some slack, we can't all have no soul!"

"Yeah, Richie, you're probably the demon that possessed this bitch," Eddie responds, looking away as he releases his grip on Richie's arm and shifts away a little, but not as far as before. 

Richie laughs. "You'd better hope not."

Eddie doesn't move away again as the movie goes on. In fact, another scene causes him to jump again, this time in silence, and grabs onto Richie's arm again. This time, Richie looks to him and raises an eyebrow with a smirk, and Eddie meets his eye.

"Spooked, Eddie Spaghetti?"

"Shut up, Tozier," Eddie grumps, moving away and folding his arms. "It just caught me off guard." 

Richie chuckles and looks back to the screen. "Uh huh. No one would even know that you turned fifteen last month, they'll all think you're just a little kid, the way you're squeaming."

"I said shut it!"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you both," says Stanley from where he is now under a blanket like a hooded cape, which makes everyone laugh.

It's not until Richie has reclined in the seat somewhat, crossing his legs and folding his arms behind his head that Eddie gets spooked again. He once more jumps into Richie's side, clinging to his shirt in the absence of his arm.

Richie looks down at him with the same smug expression as before, and Eddie glares up at him, not moving. 

"Don't. Fucking. Say anything," he says lowly under the volume of Stan's loud, prolonged groan that followed his shriek.

"Hey, nothin' wrong with a lil bit of cuddling," Richie jokes as he drops his arm down to rest around Eddie's shoulders, even as his brain screams the opposite. Eddie grumbles, but he doesn't move. Richie's heart is racing, and he hopes Eddie can't feel it. 

Eddie still jumps, even with Richie's arm around him, but Richie's brain isn't working well enough to tease him. He can barely even get it to comprehend what's happening in the movie. He can feel Stanley and Beverly squinting at him from across the room, and he refuses to look in their direction. 

"Hey Eds?" he asks during a rather loud part of the movie.

"Don't call me that," Eddie says automatically, not looking away from the screen. 

Richie smiles a little. "Eddie."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about earlier, with Bowers," Richie tells him quietly.

Eddie looks over now, quizzical. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

"I should've helped you more," Richie frowns. "I froze up when Bowers turned on me. You wouldn't have gotten as roughed up as you did if I hadn't-"

"Jesus, Richie, everyone gets scared when Bowers turns on them," Eddie rolls his eyes. "I don't blame you. I mean... you saw _me_. I was almost in tears. Begging for mercy, dude."

Richie winces at the memory of how scared Eddie looked, eyes flashing between wide with terror and squished shut in anticipation for a hit that could have landed. So small in that moment, all of his confidence and wit completely gone.

"I should have been braver," he says, and Eddie groans.

"The guy's pulled a knife on Ben, before. I don't expect you to look at him and feel confident." 

"What if he had pulled a knife on you, Eds?"

"Doesn't matter, because he didn't," Eddie shrugs. When Richie just frowns, Eddie jabs him in the stomach and looks up at him with a smile. "It's fine, Rich. I'm okay."

Richie nods, and Eddie returns his head to its resting position on Richie's chest. Richie sighs a little, loving how the action raises Eddie's head along with the inhale, and how it sinks with the exhale.

Eddie's hands are very small. Richie wants to hold them. But he'll have to be content with the way they'll subconsciously grip Richie's shirt whenever the movie gets tense.

"That was so cool!" Ben exclaims when the movie is over.

"Right? I knew it'd be good!" agrees Richie. Now that the lights are on, Eddie has shifted off of him, and Richie aches over the loss of Eddie's weight on his side.

"Are you kidding me? That was HORRIBLE," Stan splutters. "How can you guys find enjoyment in getting your socks scared off?"

"It wasn't s-so bad, S-Stan," Bill chuckles.

"Yeah, it wasn't as bad as Mara is about to be," Mike says with a grin, and Stanley goes pale.

"Wh-what?" he blinks, lowering his blanket hood. "Hey hey hey, nobody said anything about Mara!"

"Relax, I've seen it," Richie waves a hand. "The plotline is terrible."

"But it's still scary," Eddie mumbles.

"I don't know if I can do this," Stan groans, and Bev tuts affectionately.

"Awww, Stanny," she leans over Bill to latch onto his arm. "We've got you. You'll be alright."

"Buckle up, Losers," Ben says as he clicks on the movie. "This is gonna be a wild ride!"

Holy shit, is it ever. This movie doesn't have the slow start that the first one did. It isn't long before the Losers have all migrated to the floor, which they've decked out in pillows and blankets. As per standard Loser horror movie fashion, they've all formed a giant cuddle pile, wrapped in numerous blankets and multiple limbs.

Bottom center lies Ben, sacrificing himself willingly as a human pillow for Bev's head, too engrossed in the movie to be upset by how Bev is also clinging to Bill. Mike halfway spoons Stanley, who's burying his face into Ben's other side. Richie's legs are tangled with Stan's, and Eddie is lying on top of Richie's back, hanging on with his arms like a koala and screaming into Richie's shoulder blades whenever he's not resting his chin there (much to the failure of Richie's heart). Eddie's legs are tangled with Mike's, who often complains that the gripping on Eddie's onesie footies are ripping out his leg hair. Eddie's too busy trying to erase the imagery of a woman being strangled by a demon, as is everyone else. 

Every now and then Bill with reach across the pile and tell Stan to open up, and will plop a piece of whatever chocolate bar he's eating into Stan's mouth, calming him down for all of three seconds. Eddie keeps yelling at Richie and Ben to stop eating hard candies because they might get scared and then choke and die (they, of course, don't listen). Eddie himself chews on gummies and Skittles, and Richie wonders if he'll remember to brush his teeth. Beverly has a growing collection of lollipop sticks forming in a wrapper by her head, and Mike seems to be eating solely Reese's Pieces. Richie doesn't even know where all these Reese's Pieces are coming from.

"I hate you all," says Stan, muffled by Ben's shoulder. "Every single one of you. Being friends with you is what led me to this situation."

"You love us," Richie retorts, and Stan kicks him.

"I hate all of you."

"Even me?" Bill asks, voice overly sad sounding. Beverly snorts a little.

Stan raises his head from Ben's side long enough to analyze Bill, then sighs, "Maybe not you. You give me chocolate." Then the demon on the screen jumps at a man, elongated limbs slashing, and Stanley shrieks before burying his head into Ben's side again.

When the movie ends, it is unknown as to whether Stan will ever forgive the rest of them. He says that for the price of a slushee after school on Monday, he may consider it. But they are, at the moment, unforgivable.

For the sake of Stan, as well as the others, Ben decides to put on a Blue Planet documentary on the deep ocean.

The group doesn't leave their pile, instead just shifting into more comfortable positions. Beverly and Bill share using Ben's arm as a pillow, since Ben sleeps on his back, and Bev curls into Bill a little. Richie rolls onto his back, and Stanley shifts over so that Mike can now lie between him and Ben, keeping them all flush together. Eddie lies half on top of Stan and half on top of Richie, with his legs tangling with Stan's, and his head resting on Richie's chest. 

Richie forces himself to watch the screen instead of Eddie's face as the latter slowly grows sleepier.He restrains himself from putting a hand in Eddie's hair by letting Stan use his arm as a pillow. _I can't let myself make this worse._

It isn't until he's sure Eddie is alseep that he dares to look, and is conflicted with wishing he hadn't and thanking the Lord that he did. Eddie looks so peaceful, his cheek pressed into Richie's Metric shirt, smushing his face up a bit. Richie wishes he could keep this moment. Be allowed to have more moments like this.

Brain hurting and heart thumping, Richie lets his eyes go back to the screen, and soon he falls asleep under the weight of Eddie's body. The Losers all sleep soundly in their pile, surrounded by candy wrappers and bathed in the deep blue light of the ocean documentary while David Attenborough's voice becomes white noise in the back of their minds. 

When they wake up the next morning, it's due to Mrs. Denbrough turning on the light and announcing that breakfast will be ready in half an hour.

"Oh, hell yeah," Ben grins through a stretch. "Bill's mom makes the best French toast."

"I think I'm still full from all the candy last night," Mike laughs, yawning. "Hoo, man."

Eddie rubs his eyes, still on top of Richie. He rolls off as Stan has to break free from their entanglement of lower limbs, and Richie smiles.

"Hey Eds?" he says, and Eddie blinks at him tiredly.

"What?"

"You forgot to brush your teeth last night."

Everyone laughs as Eddie's eyes go wide, and he drops his face into his hands as his voice goes high when he says, "Oh, _fuck!_"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> euuwuwhshheushwuwysuhwueh i love my kids


	3. Age 15 - Week of Christmas - Eddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas with the Losers is a little different from what others might consider traditional, but hey, the Losers are a little different too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so freakin soft for Christmas y'all. It's always been my absolute favorite holiday. Fear not!! I kept in mind that Stan is Jewish, and I made a bit of a guess as to how he might participate. Also these giFTS took me like six hours to come up with. UghHghreeee lol. I hope you enjoy!!

Eddie never really cared for Christmas before he became friends with the Losers. For him, Christmas had always involved getting small, childish gifts from his mother, and his mother not being at all thankful for the gifts he got her. He wouldn't be allowed to go outside, because according to his mother, his immune system was too weak and too vulnerable towards the cold. There was no big Christmas dinner, since his momcouldn't cook more than a simple chicken breast dinner, so Eddie was usually stuck with Chinese food delivery.

It was still like that now, on Christmas day itself. But with his friends, Eddie got a little more of a Christmas in the days leading up to the actual day.Every year, the group meets up after school and goes to their favourite diner. It's old fashioned and usually almost empty, and the food is completely average, but it's somewhere decent that they can all afford, and it actually has some really good hot chocolate.

This year is no different. Bill's dad is picking him up with Bill and Mike, and since Ben's parents are home, he's getting his own ride. Bev, Richie, and Stan all live within walking distance to the diner, so they'll be meeting them there.

Eddie grins as Mr. Denbrough pulls up in front of his house. Wrapped in a coat, he quickly rushes through the icy air from his front door to the car, jumping in the backseat next to Mike.

"Hey guys," he says with a smile as he buckles up.

"Hey Eddie," everyone replies.

"That's quite a hefty bag, there," Mr. Denbrough says, referring to the stuffed full grocery bag in Eddie's lap.

"Are th-those our gifts?" Bill jokes, but Eddie already knows that Bill knows they are.

"No, it's a bag of things for me from all my other friends that I definitely have, and I'm going to rub them in your face," Eddie teases, sticking out his tongue.

"Good, because that's what I brought too," cracks Mike, and everyone laughs.

When they get to the diner, Bev and Stan already got them all a table. They wave the group over, and Eddie takes the seat next to Stan as Bill sits next to Beverly with Mike on his other side.

"I s-see Richie is late, as usual," Bill chuckles.

"Of course," Stan replies, shrugging.

"Hey!" comes a voice, and everyone turns. "I'm here before Ben! Cut me some slack!"

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Beverly grins. "Good timing, Rich."

"'Sup, Richmeister?" Mike asks as Richie slides into the seat next to Eddie.

"What'd you get me?" Eddie exaggerates scrambling to look inside the bag Richie has brought with him.

"Jack shit is what I got you," Richie shoves him away, and Eddie cackles. "Impatient brat."

"I think that's the most docile insult you've ever thrown at me," Eddie laughs, and so does everyone else.

"What do you think is holding Ben?" Beverly asks, and Bill shrugs.

"Who knows. Maybe he's s-stuck in t-traffic or s-something," he says.

It isn't long after that when the doors to the diner burst open at an alarming volume.

"HO HO HO!!" shouts a short person dressed as Santa, who they realize after a moment is Ben. He has a large fake beard and a half full garbage bag over his shoulder.

"He was playing dress up, it would seem," Mike snorts.

"Ben!" Richie grins as Ben comes to sit down at the chair at the head of the table. "Nice get up, dude."

"Thanks, it took a lot of planning," Ben answers with a wide smile.

"And time, tardy ass," Stan says with good nature.

"You were even later than Richie," Eddie says, elbowing the man in question.

"Fuck you," hisses Richie, but there's no fire. He turns to Ben. "Suit doesn't have the same effect, now that you're losing weight."

"I don't know if this is an insult or a compliment, so I'll just say 'ha ha' and move on," Ben says, making the table laugh.

Everything is just as good as Eddie could wish. The diner is decorated in garlands and a few small Christmas trees, and poinsettias are set at every table. They all order hot chocolate, which arrives in somewhat tacky Christmas mugs, as well as water in normal plastic glasses. Eddie orders mac and cheese, because his mom never lets him eat it at home. Mike and Beverly both get burgers and fries. Stan and Bill share a pizza, Ben gets a half serving of lasagna, and Richie gets a club sandwich with yam fries.

It's perfect.

It only gets better as time goes on. Christmas carols play over the speakers in the restaurant, some good versions and some shitty versions, and at one point the entire table is singing along to Jingle Bell Rock, even Stanley. Being Jewish, he technically doesn't celebrate Christmas. But he always joins his friends at Christmas and partakes in little things like exchanging gifts. His parents don't like it very much, but they don't bother him about it.

"Get outta my fries, shithead," Richie snips at Eddie, slapping away his hand as he tries to steal a yam fry. "You have an entire plate of carbs in front of you. You don't need mine."

"You always steal my fries!" Eddie whines in retaliation.

"Yes. Your normal fries. These? These are exquisite sweet potato fries. I have to protect them with my life."

Eddie pouts while the table either laughs or rolls their eyes, or both. Ben goes on to talk about how happy he is to have his parents back in the house, now that it's Christmas time, Bill chiming in about how he's excited to go out to the city to see his extended family for the holidays.

Eddie keeps pouting, making a point of tipping his head back and making puppy dog eyes at Richie. Richie ignores him successfully for maybe two minutes, until he finally groans and holds up a fry for Eddie. Eddie beams and eats it out of Richie's hand before taking a few more to put on his plate.

"Thanks Rich," he says with a cheeky grin, stuffing another fry in his mouth.

"Consider this your present, you mooch," replies Richie, teasing. "I'll be keeping what I got you."

"Nooooooooo!" Eddie dramatically wails until Stanley throws a discarded olive from his pizza at him, telling him to shut the fuck up, in typical Stanley fashion.

"The staff here must think we were raised in the worst homes," Beverly snorts. "We swear like sailors."

"Well, I mean," Mike makes a face, raising his eyebrows to elude to that indeed, many of them didn't have the most wonderful homes.

"My mum would kill me if sh-she knew how much I s-swear," laughs Bill.

"My mum too," agrees Ben, and Eddie nods in agreement.

"That might actually be her final straw for not letting me hang out with you guys anymore," he says.

"And we've come close," Richie cackles.

"Yeah, because you keep making 'your mom' jokes about her, to her face," Stan deadpans, and Richie shrugs.

"What can I say? I'm romantic like that."

After dinner is finished, they order apple pie slices for dessert (spare Stan and Mike, who prefer pecan pie, and get that instead), and they prepare to exchange gifts. They hand out all their gifts first, and once presents have been distributed, they start at the head of the table to circle around opening them.

Ben starts. He gets history books from Stan, which he beams about excitedly. Eddie got him some collectable figures from his favorite show, and it's clear how much Ben loves them. Richie custom made him some decals for his laptop, and Bill got him a collection of cool pens. Mike gave him a book of architectural designs. Beverly made him a playlist on a tape.

"For the Walkman you love so much," she tells him with a smile, and Eddie thinks Ben might explode with happiness.

Beverly is next. She gets lots of pretty little things from them all, which she appreciates because she doesn't have anyone else to get them from. Bill gets her a silver chain necklace with a heart charm that's made out of pearl.

"Bill, oh my God, this is beautiful," Beverly says softly, smiling. Bill blushes as she puts it on immediately. "Thank you so much. I love it."

"I'm g-glad," Bill answers, flushed and grinning. Ben chews his lip, but is rewarded when Beverly squeals over the collection of poems he wrote for her.

Bill himself comes third. He gets some awesome stationary and cool posters, and Beverly gets him an origami kit, on top of which she has taped a little origami swan with a heart drawn on the wing. It flusters Bill so much that Stanley and Richie both laugh aloud.

Stan didn't want the Losers to really get him anything, considering his own religion, but they all got him little things anyways, just for the thought of it. He ends up with a few gift cards and a collection of little objectively shaped stones.

Mike gets two records for the record player he has at home, which all the other Losers chipped in for a little, because they're expensive. He's ecstatic about it.

Then it's Eddie's turn for gifts. Beverly gives him a hair styling kit, and promises Eddie she'll come over some day and help him mess around with it a little. Bill's gift is a pair of really nice wooden knitting kneedles, which really surprises Eddie, but he loves them. Ben got him a gift card to his favourite clothing store, and Mike got him a gift card to his favourite frozen yogurt and bubble tea place, both of which Eddie is probably a little too excited about. Stan's present is a new fanny pack, because "You always have two for some reason, and I know that one of them is falling apart."

Richie's gift comes last. It's in a sleek white box with no logo or anything, which Eddie is immediately suspicious of. He removes the lid, and his eyes go wide.

"Rich, is this...?" Eddie pulls out the box's contents, and a collective "ooooooh" rises from the table.

"It's a smart watch," Richie replies, and he's acting uncharacteristically shy. "It's not Apple or anything, but y'know. I figured it could replace that shitty one you've got now."

"That's awesome of you, Richie," Beverly smiles at Richie, who just shrugs a little.

The watch is beautiful in comparison to the one Eddie has. His current watch is clunky and plastic and the buttons are sticky and the sound is annoying, and it doesn't even tell time properly anymore. This new watch is sleek and black, it's face a long rectangle framed with a gold finish. It's touchscreen and the band is soft and flexible, and not the uncomfortable ropey fabric that Eddie's current watch sports.

"It has alarms and tracks your blood pressure and heart rate and all that shit," Richie continues. "I dunno how accurately, but it seemed cool."

"Richie, this is so cool!" Eddie grins, already discarding his old watch. "I can't wait to set it up. You'll have to show me how it works. How... how much did it cost you?"

Richie goes just a little bit pink. "You're not allowed to ask that!"

"Thank you so much, Rich," Eddie says, and he wraps Eddie in a hug that's somewhat awkward due to their sitting position. He catches Beverly and Stan exchanging looks when he pulls away, but doesn't dwell on it, because now it's time for Richie to open his gifts.

Richie is enthusiastic about everything he gets. Ben gets him numerous vintage comic books. Stan contributes to his button collection. Bill buys him new Skullcandy earbuds. Beverly's gift is a glossy poster for Richie's favourite movie series. Mike finally gives him the t-shirt he bought for him months ago when he went to a band concert that Richie was jealous of.

"And now it's time for your gift, Eds!" Richie announces. "It's the last gift of the night, so let's hope it's a good one!"

Eddie's stomach flips a few times and his ears heat up. He desperately hopes Richie likes his gift and that he doesn't think it's lame. It's not flashy or anything... but Eddie really tried.

Richie opens the envelope that Eddie gave him, and Eddie's eyes dart between Richie and his lap. Inside the envelope is a Merry Christmas card that Eddie wrote on, reading, _"I hope your geeky ass enjoys this. Just be sure to take me with you at least a few times. - Eddie"_. Beside the card is Eddie's gift.

Richie reads the card with a smile, looking to Eddie with a raised eyebrow. Eddie avoids prolonged eye contact as Richie pulls out the actual gift.

"Holy shit," Richie breathes.

"What? What is it?" asks Stan.

"It's... it's a certificate for me to hand in at the arcade," Richie replies, beaming like the sun. "When I hand it in, they'll give me a card, and whenever I show them that card, they give me 50 free tokens one visit per day. For six months!"

"No fucking way!" Bill says, leaning over the table to see. "Th-that's awesome!"

"Eds... how much did you spend on this?" Richie asks, turning back to Eddie.

"I thought you said we weren't allowed to ask that," Eddie mutters in response, smiling shyly as Richie beams at him. Truth is, Eddie had to save up a lot for that certificate for Richie. But he knew Richie would love it, so he made the sacrifice. It took up many months of allowance.

"Eddie Spaghetti, Eds, Eduardo, you're the best!" Richie pulls Eddie into their second hug of the night. Eddie's cheek is pressed against Richie's, hot and red. "Thank you so much. This is incredible."

"What's next, a proposal?" snorts Stanley, and Bev laughs into her water, spilling a little.

"Shut up Stan," Richie retorts, releasing Eddie, who feels unexplainably giddy.

The night continues on through their dessert of pie, and Eddie keeps thinking about Richie's smile. Eddie doesn't understand a lot about his friendship with Richie, but he's beginning to learn one thing: He loves seeing Richie happy, especially when the happiness is due to something Eddie did. And he loves the attention Richie will give him in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') kiddos 
> 
> Also, I don't know shit about arcades lmao but it sounded like something I could see being a thing so I just went with it
> 
> This was another pretty short chapter but I promise I'm gonna try and keep them longer in the future lol. I don't really have a schedule for posting so I'm just posting whenever I finish and edit a chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> By the way, talking about editing, always let me know if you see a typo, because I will want to fix it!!


	4. Age 15 - Richie - New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Christmas comes New Years, and oh boy, is it a fun night for the Losers Club. 
> 
> Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels like it took five billion years to write??? But it was so fun oml. I packed a LOT into this chapter, and in the next one I hope to unpack a little bit of it.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy reading!!
> 
> PS: My best friend Danni, who I've mentioned, did an incredible drawing of 15y/o Eddie!! She also suggested the two songs in this chapter, and helped me kickstart the end of it, so partial blame to her for that. Please take a look at the link below and check out the artwork!
> 
> https://graceful-and-spaceful.tumblr.com/post/188690227853/your-dirty-little-secret-meemerleemer-it

"Rich, as cool as this is, are you sure we won't get in trouble?"

Richie rolls his eyes at Mike as he and the rest of the Losers crowd through his doorway. "Yes Mike, I'm sure."

"It's just..." Mike shifts. "They don't even know we're here."

"Yeah, because they're both too busy to bother to check up on their son," grunts Richie. "It's not like I didn't tell them. I left them both a text that I was having some friends over for a sleepover tonight for New Year's. I even tried calling my mom."

Richie's house is empty for the week. His parents are both out of town for their own reasons: Mr. Tozier is working on a case for one of his clients out in the city, and Mrs. Tozier is in Vermont for the funeral of one of her childhood friends' father. So Richie was left home alone for the week. It seems like a terrible decision on his parents' part, really, since Richie is a barely functional teenager who's probably going to fail Science class, but in actuality, Richie has been pretty much taking care of himself since he was about 11. As soon as his parents figured he was old enough to manage on his own, they turned their focus to work. Which Richie understands to an extent, since they both have very demanding jobs, but still, damn.

"Besides, it's not like we're drinking or anything," Bev agrees with Richie.

"Well I mean. We could be," Richie shrugs, but he's not really suggesting that they do. They're Losers, and only cool kids drink underage, right?

"But we won't be," Stan vetoes the idea immediately, and Ben calls him a mom.

"And we're not gonna trash the place either," Eddie continues. "We all know damn well that we're just gonna play loud music and watch the bullshit Time's Square feed."

Ben snorts. "I mean, yeah."

"S-so you have nothing t-to worry about, Mikey," Bill pats his friend on the shoulder. "It'll be like we were never here after we leave."

Beverly and Eddie have both brought decorations for Richie's living room, because they're extra like that. So it isn't long before everyone is being forced into hanging up streamers and signs and blowing up balloons, all with a theme of sparkly gold and blue.

Stan and Mike are put on balloon duty, and Bill is the only one who can successfully tie them. Ben and Bev are assembling banner signs that read "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" and "2018!", which they intend to tape up to the walls.

"Alright, Rich, looks like we've been left with the streamers," says Eddie, grinning as he holds up four rolls of gold sparkly paper streamers.

"And just how are you planning on reaching the roof, shortass?" Richie snorts, catching a roll tossed at him.

"I'll use a chair, you turd," Eddie retorts, making a face.

Richie watches in amusement as Eddie drags a chair from the kitchen to the living room, positioning it in the corner up against the wall. Richie stands next to it with a roll of masking tape as Eddie climbs onto the chair.

"Careful, Eddie," Stanley warns, watching Eddie warily from where he sits on the floor.

"I'm fine, Stan," Eddie assures him. But here's the thing about Richie's house: It's got abnormally high ceilings. The design of the house was intended to replicate a "modern New Mexican house", according to his father (though Richie isn't sure how), and as a result, the smooth ceilings of the main floor are about three meters high to accommodate the large arching doorways. If Richie were to stand on a chair, he wouldn't have too much trouble with the streamers. Eddie, however, is a bit shorter than Richie, and has more of a struggle trying to reach the roof to tape up the streamer. It only makes him all the more determined.

"You gonna be alright up there, Eddie Spaghetti?" Richie teases as he hands his friend a piece of tape.

"Yes," huffs Eddie, finally succeeding in adhering the streamer to the wall. He hops down and lifts the chair, moving it to the right to tape up the next point on the ribbon of elasticy paper.

Eddie has to go on his tip toes to reach the roof, and he has to lean forward too. Without the brace of the wall on his chair, Richie can see the chair tipping under Eddie's off-center weight.

Everything happens incredibly fast. The room breaks into noise. As the chair tips, Eddie shrieks, beginning to fall sidways, slipping off the hard wood of the chair. Beverly screams, so does Ben. Stan yells "FUCK," and Bill jumps to his feet, his voice catching in an alarmed stutter. Mike lets go of his untied balloon with a shout, and all the air escapes, sending it flying into the TV screen.

Richie swears loudly as he lunges forwards. He's sure it's too late, that Eddie, that idiot, has fallen onto the ground, and probably broke his damn arm or something. It isn't until he hears silence that he registers Eddie's back against his chest. His arms are under Eddie's, holding him up as if Eddie just did a trust fall into his arms. Relief sweeps over Richie, and he stumbles to the ground, bringing Eddie with him.

"Holy shit, holy fuck," Eddie breathes, and if Richie wasn't trying to figure whether or not his heart was still beating, he might have been more flustered by the way Eddie collapses into him.

"Eddie, you fucking idiot," Beverly is already dragging the chair back to the kitchen. "Absolutely no more standing on chairs for either of you. Figure something else out."

"Jesus Christ," Stan breathes from where he kneels in the fetal position on the floor next to Mike, both attempting to recover from what may have been a minor heart attack. "Jesus fucking Christ,"

Ben shakes his head in probable disappointment. "Fool."

"You almost f-f-fucking died," Bill half laughs, hands planted against the wall as he regulates his heartbeat.

"I just saved a life, ladies and gentlemen," Richie announces, now trying not to focus on Eddie's head on his shoulder, or the way Eddie's back is still pressed into his torso, leaning against him as he sits between Richie's legs.

Mike laughs. "You seriously did, though."

"Totally," Eddie nods, turning his head to look at Richie, who hopes the heat of his face isn't visible. "Thanks for real, Richie."

"Well, I wasn't about to let you die," Richie moves to pinch Eddie's cheek. "Where would we be without our cute little Eds?"

"I'm not cute," Eddie slaps away Richie's hand. "Now let's figure out how the hell we're gonna put these streamers up now."

After recollecting the streamer roll that rolled all the way to the stairs, and after some thinking and a few different ideas, Richie finds himself standing bent at the knees between Mike and Bev, with Eddie standing behind him on the couch.

"Are you ready?" Eddie asks from behind him.

Richie sighs. "Yes."

"You better not drop me, Tozier,"

"Just get on my fucking shoulders."

Eddie huffs, then hooks one leg over Richie's shoulder. Beverly and Mike steady him while he swings the other leg over and Richie grips his shins.

"Jesus, Eddie," Richie grunts, stumbling a little. "Relax your thighs."

Stan PFFFT's so aggressively that it startles Bill, and Beverly and Mike poorly stifle laughs. Richie shoots them all what he hopes is a threatening glare.

"Are they too much for you?" Eddie teases, and Richie knows his ears have gone bright red. _Dear Lord, does this kid even hear what he's saying??_ He supposes it's not the worst thing he's ever heard, but the way even Ben joins in on Stan, Bev and Mike's burst of laughter still twists his gut.

"If I can handle your mom's thighs, I can handle yours," Richie says to somehow save himself, and laughs when Eddie slaps him from above.

Their combined height is perfect for hanging up the streamers. Mike has to abandon Stan in order to hand Eddie pieces of tape, however, leaving him alone to blow up balloons.

Richie tries not to focus on how Eddie's hands thread into his hair whenever they travel from one spot to the next, gripping just slightly for stability, or how damn nice it feels. Richie knows just how easily he could fall asleep to the feeling of Eddie's fingers combing through his hair, but he also knows how wrong and how creepy it is to think that.

"And that's the last of the streamer," Eddie slaps his hand together as if just finishing a hard, laborious project.

"Down ya go then!" Richie chirps, and pretends to drop Eddie as he bends straight backwards before pulling him back up straight. He goes back far enough, though, for Eddie to shriek like a child, gripping to Richie's hair and under his chin to stay on. "Ow! Chill, Eddie-"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, RICHIE!!" Eddie cries from his shoulders, and the room is caught between wheezing and _again_ recovering from a mild panic. "I've already almost fallen once today, you asshole!"

Richie drops to one knee, laughing deeply. "I thought you would want to try again!"

"You're a dick," Eddie pouts, and he struggles a little to slide off of Richie's shoulders.

"Oh man, it feels so good to get your heavy ass off my poor shoulders," Richie sighs, missing Eddie's physical contact a whole lot. He stretches dramatically, letting out an exaggerated refreshed groan.

"Oh, shut up, you've just got no muscle," Eddie retorts, readjusting his shirt.

"Arm wrestle me sometime, hotshot."

"Alright, we get it, you're both horny and you're channeling it into anger," Beverly rolls her eyes as she stands, and Eddie starts spluttering.

"If I were horny, I'd just call Eddie's mom and ask her when a good time to come over would b-" Richie is cut off when Eddie punches him in the gut just enough to get a good "oof" out of him.

"You're disgusting," Ben says with a chuckle while Stan groans, and everyone conjugates to the middle of the room.

"This place looks ready for a party, all right," Mike nods approvingly as he scans the gold-clad room. "So now it's time to start said party!"

"What sh-should we do first?" asks Bill, looking to his friends for ideas.

"Well, I have my PlayStation set up right now, but I can set up the Wii-U and we can take turns playing Mario Kart," Richie suggests. This gets an excited agreement from the whole room. "Well, alright then, Mario Kart it is."

After a minor struggle with Richie's television and game consoles, and only one nunchuck being thrown at someone, they eventually get the Wii-U set up and ready to go.

"Four of us can play at once, if one of us plays on the tablet," Richie explains. "So we'll have to take turns."

"Won't be an issue," says Stan. "But I want Richie to be playing every time I'm playing so I can continually kick his ass."

"As if you could kick my ass!" Richie scoffs indignantly.

"Yeah Stan, you can't kick Richie's ass if I'm kicking it," Eddie chimes in, and Bill snorts.

"When did this turn from New Year's Eve to Let's Bully Richie Day??" splutters Richie. Mike pats him on the back while the others laugh.

"Let's kick his ass together, Eddie," Stan tells him with a grin. He turns to Bill. "Bill, want to join us in kicking Richie's ass?"

"I'll always take up an opportunity to kick Richie's ass!" Bill agrees, and Bev, Ben and Mike are wheezing while Richie gapes in betrayal.

"You'll all be sorry when I win every race," Richie huffs, dropping onto the couch with his controller. Eddie sits next to him, followed by Stan and Bill. Bev, Ben and Mike distribute themselves along the floor to await their turn to race.

It's so _loud_. The four racers spend most of the time yelling while the others laugh, trying to remain impartial.

Richie only wins two races, but he's behind all three of his friends in the other races, spare one, in which he beats Bill.

"BILL!" Stan and Eddie both cry, as if he's betrayed them somehow.

"I'M S-SORRY!" Bill laughs, and Stan tackles him to the couch.

"You ruined our master plan!"

"He beat all th-three of us, before!"

"But at least we were together in failing!" Eddie teases, rubbing his knuckles into Bill's head.

"Alright, you idiots, it's my turn," Beverly snatches the tablet from Richie, and Stan and Bill hand their remotes to Ben and Mike.

"Mario Kart ruins friendships," Ben hums as he watches Beverly viscously attack Richie with a pillow after he red-shelled her right at the finish line to take first place.

"Oh, definitely," agrees Bill from where he sits on top of Stan, who wheezes and coughs beneath him.

"I can't breathe, you sore ass loser," Stan cackles, attempting to shove Bill off.

"Good, die," Bill tells him, which only makes Stan laugh more.

"How come nobody's hating on Bill and Mike?" Eddie gestures to the boys in question.

"Because Mike just consistently got third place, somehow," answers Stan, reaching with somewhat of a struggle to poke Mike's side. "Which is a neutral place that no one can hate on."

"And because Ben is just impossible to hate," Beverly throws the pillow at Richie in a final attack before turning to pinch Ben's cheek. "Far too sweet."

"And because he got next to last every single time," snorts Richie, saving Ben from his impending heart failure.

"Fuck you, Richie," Ben laughs as Richie gets up off the floor and tosses the pillow back onto the couch.

"Time to stop playing Mario Kart before our club disbands," laughs Mike, switching the TV from the Wii-U to the Time's Square feed. "What next?"

"It's only like, nine, and the good stuff doesn't start until ten at the earliest," Richie says, referring to the feed. "So we've got about an hour to kill."

"I have an idea!" Beverly claps her hands together. "Let's play spin the bottle!"

Immediately, three main things rush through Richie's mind among thousands of others. Firstly, Eddie. Kissing Eddie. Getting kissed by Eddie. Which would be good. No, bad. It would be bad. Second, kissing or being kissed by any of the other four boys in their group. Also bad. Third, kissing or being kissed by Bev, which should be good, but would be bad. 

"Th-that could be fun," Bill nods, for what Richie knows is solely one reason.

"Yeah! Yeah, that sounds great!" agrees Ben, for exactly the same reason, less subtly.

Mike shrugs. "Why not?"

"Wow, cliché teenager party here, guys," Stan chuckles, but he doesn't seem against the idea.

"I-I-I mean we- we can," Eddie stammers, and it's unlike him to get flustered like that so easily. "But does it have to be... like... a full on kiss?"

Bev shakes her head. "Nah. It can be on the cheek if you want."

"Oh, good," Richie says in what he hopes is a steady voice. "Human contact is gross."

"Oh whatever, Richie," teases Bill. "Find us a bottle, would you?"

The rest of the club sits themselves in a circle on the floor while Richie searches his recycling bin outside for a glass bottle. He returns with an empty beer bottle of his dad's, and fills it with water to make it spin better.

"Alriiiight, let's get this started," Richie sounds far too enthusiastic for how brittle he feels, nerves tense. He sits down in his apparently designated spot between Eddie and Stan, and sets the bottle in the middle of their circle.

They spin the bottle to determine who goes first. It lands on Mike.

"How do we make this last an hour?" Mike laughs as he spins.

"Play til everyone has kissed everyone at least once," Ben suggests, and while everyone else seems to feel fine about that, Richie's stomach sinks. But his heart skips too. A very conflicting feeling, he must say.

Mike's spin lands on Eddie. "Gonna go for the cheek, bud," he tells him, and Eddie laughs.

"Fine with me," he replies, and Mike lightly pecks Eddie on the cheek. Everyone claps.

"There. That wasn't so bad!" Beverly laughs, and Mike shrugs.

"Didn't think it would be."

"Alright, we'll go clockwise so Ben, you're next," Beverly says, and Ben nods.

"Right. Yeah, spinning this now," he says, and Richie can all but hear Ben praying in his mind as he gives the bottle a push. The room is quiet as it spins, landing on... Bill.

"Go for it, Ben," Bill grins, leaning over Beverly to present his cheek. Ben somewhat awkwardly presses his lips to Bill's cheek, and everyone applauds again, Ben making a face while Bill laughs. "Alright, Bev. Your t-turn."

Beverly calmly twirls the bottle, letting it spin until it comes to a stop, its neck aiming at Stan.

"Stanny!" Bev beams, and Stanley sighs.

"Just do it," he rolls his face, leaning into Bill's space a little so Bev can do the same on her end.

"Jeez, you'd think I was gonna slap you," Beverly laughs, and Stan lets her press a hand to his other cheek as she plants a smooch on the one closest to her. He smiles in amusement as she pats his face. "There, all done. Like getting a bandaid ripped off."

Now it's Bill's turn. He also, coincidentally, gets Stan.

"Ooh, two in a row," Richie teases, wiggling his eyebrows. "Lucky boy, Stanny."

"You okay if I do full on?" Bill asks Stan, always the one to be first to take the leap.

"Uh," Stan ignores Richie's whoop. "Sure?"

The room cheers as Bill presses his lips to Stan's in a short kiss, leaving Stan looking mildly unnerved while Bill laughs and claps him on the back.

Stan spins and gets Ben, whose cheek he kisses without a big show. Then it's Richie's turn.

He doesn't let on, but Richie's heart is hammering in his chest as he reaches for the bottle. As it spins, he doesn't even know who he hopes it'll land on. Himself, maybe?

It lands on Bev. He doesn't know how to react.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or do I have to do it?" Bev teases upon Richie's momentary hesitation.

"I don't want cooties!" is the brilliant response he comes up with.

"Cooties? Seriously, Richie?" Eddie snorts while everyone cackles.At least Richie got them to laugh. "What are you, eight?"

Beverly rolls her eyes. "Just kiss my cheek, Trashmouth."

Richie makes a show of gagging on his way to Bev's cheek, groaning and whining until Mike kicks him. When he finally pecks her cheek, he throws himself back dramatically, wailing.

"I have cootiieeeees!" he cries, flailing. "Eddie! Quick! Get me your fanny pack hand sanitizer!"

"First of all, fuck you, second of all, no," Eddie huffs. "Shut up and let's keep going."

"Rude," Richie pouts, but he settles back into his place, and once the others have stopped laughing, Eddie spins the bottle.

Again, Richie's head swims as Eddie's bottle twirls. It eventually lands on Bill, and Eddie kisses Bill's cheek while Richie internally sighs in... relief? Disappointment?

The circle goes around again. Mike kisses Ben's cheek, and Ben kisses Eddie's cheek. Beverly's spin lands on Ben, whose brain Richie thinks might have just imploded. She kisses him on the lips, and Richie can't help but smile a little at the way Ben goes the color of Bev's hair, visibly melting. It's really sweet.

It's unfortunately short lived, however, because Bill's spin lands on Beverly. He kisses her on the lips, and Richie is sure that he's not the only one who notices how it lingers a little longer, and seems like there's something a little more, especially in the way Bev's fingers brush his jaw. He knows Ben sees it, at least, and almost wishes he didn't.

Stan spins to kiss Mike's cheek, and then it's back to Richie. He lands on Bill this time, and kisses his forehead because "I'm creative like that."

_That wasn't terrible,_ Richie decides, and he thinks maybe he's okay with this whole comfortably platonic thing. His nerves loosen up a bit, and he feels himself relax.

Then Eddie's spin is pointing at him, and boom, the nerves are back and more tightly strung than ever.

Eddie is already a solid shade of pink, and Richie is _sure_ he looks like a wholeass tomato.

"S-so... just the cheek then, right?" Eddie mutters, and Richie feels like there are a thousand people watching him, glaring.

"Duh," is all he manages, trying to keep his cool.

He sees Eddie roll his eyes, but looks away as Eddie's face nears his. Then Eddie's lips are pressing to his cheek for just a fraction of a second, pillow-soft and leaving a searing burn under the skin where they touched.

No one really says anything, at least nothing Richie can comprehend in his current state, and they just clap and cheer. He makes a point of scrunching up his face in what he hopes looks like disgust.

"You sure you can't give me any hand sanitizer?" he asks Eddie, and Eddie shoves him, red.

"Shut up, Tozier."

The game goes on. Everyone kisses the cheek of everyone else, and for the most part, it's fun. Richie switches between kissing hands, cheeks and foreheads when it's his turn, and it's fine. When he eventually spins to Eddie, he kisses his forehead, declaring to Stan, "Fuck you, I'm not scared of anything!" in what is a very big lie, before proceeding to momentarily conquer his nerves and grab Eddie's face in his hands and kiss his forehead, ignoring the bit of hair that he presses between his lips and Eddie's skin. Then his nerves return in full, exploding and almost killing him on the inside.

Spin the bottle finally comes to a stop when Bill is tackling Stan for another kiss, and Stan shrieks so loudly that Mike starts worrying about a sound complaint or a police call to find out why screaming was heard from Richie's house.

"Jeez, Bill, something you wanna say about your feelings for Stan?" teases Beverly.

"I'm in love with him," Bill responds evenly, grinning from where he still lays on top of Stanley. Richie wonders what it's like to have to confidence to even joke about being in love with your best friend. He sure as hell can't admit it. 

"Get off of me, you hoe rat," Stan shoves Bill off of him, trying not to smile. Everyone laughs, even if Richie's is a little distracted.

"Oh, look, I think the good stuff is starting," Ben points to the live performance going on on the TV. "Whaddaya say we make some popcorn and get some chips and get ready for the countdown in two hours?"

"Sounds like a plan," Mike agrees. "I brought sour cream and onion chips, and all dressed."

"Legend," Richie points at him with a grin. "I'll get drinks."

"Have you got popcorn, Rich?" Eddie asks, standing up alongside him. "I'll make it if you do."

"Oh, yeah," Richie nods. "Come on, I'll show you where it is. Do you guys want bowls for the chips?"

"Sure, bring some out," answers Bev, settling into a reading chair.

So Eddie and Richie head out into Richie's kitchen. Eddie knows Richie's house pretty well, and brings down three bowls while Richie gets out two bags of popcorn, tossing one in the microwave.

"Hey Rich?" Eddie asks while Richie gets out some cans of coke and ginger ale.

Richie's heart skips a little, but he remains calm. "Yeah?"

"You're okay, right?" Eddie fidgets with the second bag of popcorn. "You've just seemed a little spacey since we started playing spin the bottle."

"Well cut me some slack, Eds! I don't usually get that much a action away from your mom. I was a little unprepared."

"Come on, Richie, I'm serious."

Richie chews his lip a little, but he smiles at Eddie's big, brown eyes underneath pinched brows. "Yeah, Spaghetti, I'm fine."

"Don't call me that, dick," Eddie grunts, giving Richie a small shove, but there's no anger. "I just wanted to be sure none of us made you feel uncomfortable or anything."

Richie tries not to frown contemplatively. He wasn't exactly uncomfortable... maybe a little nervous at first, but they probably all were. It wasn't so bad after he got his first spin down. Everyone else was obviously fine, and platonic kisses, even the few on the mouth, seemed perfectly normal after a while. Granted, nobody kissed Richie on the mouth, which he was perfectly happy with. The problem, he realizes, was him. Him and how he _wanted_ to kiss Eddie. He was the one making it weird for himself, not anybody else.

So Richie smiles and shakes his head. "Nah, you're all fine. I just haven't had enough sugar to be as crazy as usual."

"Please, as if sugar is to blame for your insanity," Eddie snorts, but Richie can see the relief smoothing over his features.

Richie and Eddie return to the living room with two bowls for chips and a large bowl of popcorn in Eddie's arms, and cans of drinks in Richie's.

This is the part of their nights that Ben always calls their "energy rebuild." It's pretty mellow, as everyone sits and munches on snacks while various famed artists belt out popular tunes on the TV. Bev is curled up in the reading chair, with Ben on the floor next to her. The two of them are thoroughly enjoying the feed, discussing the more little-known artists enthusiastically.

Richie is layed out across the laps of the other four, his head in Mike's lap, stretched across the whole couch so his feet are in Stan's lap (they are, however, crushed under a pillow that Stan is leaning his arms on, declaring "If I'm going to have your stupid marijuana socks, which don't make sense by the way, because you don't even smoke weed, in my lap then you're going to suffer the pillow."). Bill has a bowl of chips balanced on Richie's legs, and Eddie's arms are resting on Richie's chest (only after a series of loud complaints, however).

"Is it just me, or is Ryan Seacrest not as cool as Dick Clark?" Richie gestures to the screen. "Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but Dick Clark was a classic."

"Well, he got old, Rich," chuckles Mike. "The guy's passed away, now."

"Oh yeah, I know, I'm not saying they should have kept Dick on the show, like, fuckin' holding him captive until he died. I just mean he was the best."

"I dunno, Ryan Seacrest is hot," Beverly joins in, and Eddie chokes on a piece of popcorn, laughing.

The conversation turns into a whole "Which celebrity would you fuck" thing, which Richie somehow manages to avoid answering with some bullshit statement about how celebrities are all corrupt and gross (his answer is, however, Ryan Reynolds).

"I think I'd fuck Harry Styles," Bev hums, and Richie boos.

"Basiiic."

"I can understand th-that," Bill nods to Beverly. "British dudes, right? I mean, I th-think I'd pick Emma Watson."

"She is GORGEOUS," Bev agrees. "I'd kill for eyes like that."

Ben is clearly holding back some remark about Beverly's eyes and now they're even more beautiful than Emma Watson's, but instead he says "I like Cate Blanchett."

"Incredible actress," agrees Mike. "I might kiss her, like, on the cheek."

"You never were horny, huh, Mikey?" chuckles Eddie, and Mike shrugs with a laugh.

"This is the worst conversation we've had in a while," Stan groans, running a hand down his face.

"Well, who's your pick, St-Stan?" smirks Bill.

"Danny DeVito," Stan deadpans, not missing a beat, and the room loses their shit. They move on before they force Eddie to answer, or try to get Richie to answer again, which Richie is thankful for. But he can't help but be curious as to what Eddie would have said.

Finally, it's time for the countdown. There's two minutes until midnight, and Richie and Bev are struggling in the kitchen to pour ginger ale into Bev's plastic champagne glasses, because they are responsible teenagers and underage drinking is bad, obviously. And also because Stan and Mike would probably be the ones to call the police.

"HURRY THE HELL UP," yells Ben from the living room. "THEY'VE MADE THE CLOCK BIGGER!"

"COME IN HERE AND HELP US CARRY THEM, FUCKER!" Richie calls back, then spills some ginger ale all over the counter. "Shit-"

"We should have done this earlier," Bev wheezes as she pours another glass. "Jesus."

Ben and Mike help them carry the drinks into the living room, and everyone gets a glass with exactly one minute left of the countdown. 

Everyone starts counting down, and Richie slings his arms around Ben and Eddie's necks.

"...Fourteen! Thirteen! Twelve!"

"Am I the only one who hears the gears turning in Bill's head?" Eddie whispers to Richie.

"Huh?" Richie looks to Bill, who's almost zoned out as he counts.

"Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!"

"Oh shit," Richie agrees, and he sees Mike notice it too, as Bill starts crossing the room towards Beverly.

"Richie, I think he's gonna do it," Eddie hisses, and Richie can only nod as Bill takes Bev's wrist in his hand. He's pretty sure Ben has stopped counting on his other side.

"Five! Four!" Richie squeezes Ben a little tighter, trying to salvage the excitement for him.

"Three! Two! One!"

The ball drops on the TV and everyone cheers as the clock turns to 12.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

Everyone is cheering and clapping, drinking their ginger ale, and then, sure enough, Bill kisses Beverly, properly, for real.

The rest of the Losers Club is immediately in action. Ben can only manage a few seconds more of cheering before he's freeing himself from Richie's arm and slipping upstairs.

Exchanging glances with each other, the first step is to cheer for Bev and Bill, who are both beaming at each other, blushing happily. They can't ruin this for them; they're completely innocent and genuine.

"You should go to him," Eddie tells Richie when Mike and Stan provide suitable distractions.

"Me?" Richie hisses. "I'm shit with words!"

"You have to do your best!" Eddie replies sharply, and then they're both quickly returning their attention to Bev and Bill, Eddie hugging Bev and Richie putting Bill in a headlock.

"You go to him first," Mike whispers to him when he gets a chance. "Say you had to get him toilet paper or something, then I'll go to him after under the excuse that I have to use the bathroom too."

Mike's ability to come up with quick plans has always impressed Richie, but he feels like sending him as the first man is a crucial mistake.

"Just go!" Eddie mouths from over Bev's shoulder.

"Don't fuck up," warns Stan quietly as he passes, and Richie suppresses a groan, but he goes upstairs.

The bathroom door is shut, and Ben is surely inside. It's still fairly loud downstairs, but Richie is 90% sure he hears crying from behind the door. 

"Hey, uh, Ben, I wanted to check on you, man," he says, knocking gently on the door.

There's a brief pause, and a couple sniffles, "I'm fine..."

Richie winces. Ben sounds so hurt and so broken down.

"C'mon, man, I know that's bullshit," Richie replies. "Can I come in?"

Silence. Then, "Y-yeah."

Richie opens the door, and almost wants to back out immediately. Ben's sitting on the edge of the tub. His face is red and streaked with tears, his grey eyes rimmed red. He looks so utterly heartbroken, and it scares Richie to think that this is the consequence of being as soft and open as Ben is, always so full of love and tenderness.

"Shit, Ben," Richie grimaces, shutting the door behind him. "I'm so sorry, dude..."

"It's n-not your fault," Ben sniffles, wiping his eyes pointlessly.

"I know, but..." Richie sighs. "Man, you know I'm shitty with words."

Ben huffs out a weak, sniffly laugh. "It's okay."

There's a somewhat awkward silence as Richie leans his back against the door, trying not to close off his body language too much. He wonders if he should somehow comfort Ben through physical touch, but he might be even worse at that than with words.

"It's not even their fault, Bill and Bev's," Ben sobs again. "I know how much Bill likes her, and- and he's so perfect, you know? He's so handsome and smart, and he's always been our leader..." he shudders on a sob, and Richie decides to try the physical thing, moving to sit on the toilet lid and put a hand on the back on Ben's shoulder, rubbing.

"I just d-don't know why I ever thought I could compete with that," Ben blows his nose. "I mean, Bill's got so much and I'm just some n-nerd who likes books too much."

"Aw, Ben, c'mon man," Richie shakes his head, frowning. "You know that's not true. Just because Bev didn't... return your feelings... that doesn't mean she doesn't like you. Obviously she still thinks your a great friend, so she knows just as well as the rest of us how awesome you are. I mean, just look at how much she loved those poems you made her for Christmas! And you two always talk about stuff none of us understand."

"I g-guess that's true..." Ben nods slowly. He blows his nose again, taking a shaky breath. "I was just super hopeful, you know? Especially after tonight. I thought that maybe..." he chews his lip.

Richie just nods, continuing to rub Ben's back. Ben looks to him, then, with glistening eyes.

"Do you think I should have just confessed first?" he asks, and Richie blinks. "Or do you think she would have just rejected me?"

Richie honestly has zero clue. "I... jeez, Ben, I really have no idea. I don't know shit about girls."

Ben chuckles, and Richie thinks that's good. "I guess I don't either."

"I bet you know more than me."

"Maybe, but it didn't do me much good."

"It's just been one time, man. I know you'll pull through."

There's yet another brief stretch of silence before Ben is talking again. "Have you ever liked someone the way I liked Bev?" he asks it innocently, genuinely curious.

The question surprises Richie, and then sends him into a bit of a panic. There's no way he can answer. "I... um..."

Just then there's a knock on the door. "It's Mike. Can I come in?"

Richie barely stops himself from exhaling in relief. "Looks like that's my replacement," he chuckles. "Now you can talk to someone who can probably actually help you a little."

Ben shakes his head, smiling a little as Richie stands to open the door. "No, Rich, you did fine. Thank you so much."

"Anytime, man. But I probably won't be your first pick."

Richie opens the door and Mike smiles. "How we doing?"

"Well. Rough. But Ben's tough," Richie smiles back at his friend. "See you soon, buddy."

"Sure thing," Ben smiles, and Mike gives Richie an appreciative nod before closing the door.

Richie exhales and heads back downstairs to where things have calmed down a bit.

"Alright folks, I'm back," he says, grinning.

"Where'd you go?" Bev asks, and Richie waves a hand.

"I just had to get Ben some toilet paper."

"What a hero," Bill laughs. He and Bev are sitting on the couch together now, in between Stan and Eddie.

"So, do our two lovebirds desireth some privacy?" Richie grins, and Bill rolls his eyes while Stan laughs into his drink. "I'm only asking because I was gonna go get a Bluetooth speaker so we can set up some music."

"We don't need privacy, but music is a good idea!"Beverly smiles.

"Can you keep the PDA down anyways, though?" Eddie groans. "Don't get me wrong, I'm super happy for you guys, but like... gross."

"Yeah, for real," Stan chuckles. Richie knows these requests are really mostly for Ben's benefit.

"Don't worry about it," Beverly laughs softly, blushing a little. Bill is much redder. "I know we kinda... started off big but we're definitely gonna go slow."

"For s-s-sure," Bill nods. "We promise. I'm t-too new at th-this to go fast."

"I'll go get the speaker, then," Richie tells them, and turns to head upstairs. "And congrats, by the way!"

"I'll come with you," Stan stands. "I might want to make sure Mike and Ben haven't somehow broken something."

"Alright, Eddie Spaghetti, make sure those two don't fuck!" Richie grins as he and Stan head upstairs. "I don't trust what they say."

Stan hipchecks him into the wall, making him cackle as the other three all groan behind them. "You're disgusting, Richie."

Once he and Richie are out of earshot, Stan speaks up. "How's Ben?"

Richie sighs, shaking his head. "I dunno. He's pretty torn up, but... I think he'll be alright."

"Did you tease him?"

Richie huffs. "No, Stan. I know I'm an asshole, but I'm not a total dick."

"I know," Stan smiles a little. "I was teasing you."

"Oh, okay, I see. Prick."

Richie flicks Stan in the ear and he laughs. They get the speaker from Richie's room and start heading back to the stairs.

Ben and Mike step out of the bathroom just as they're passing. "Oh, hey guys," Mike greets them.

"Hey," Stan smiles. He looks to Ben. "How're you doing?"

Ben smiles back. "I'm okay now. I think talking to Richie and Mike right away really helped. I don't think being alone would have been too good."

"Yeah, it'll take time, Ben, don't worry about it," Mike nods. Stan pats Ben's back.

"You're a trooper, man," Richie says. "Now let's get back downstairs before people get suspicious."

Ben holds up well. He's fine as Richie and Bill set up some music, fighting over whose playlist gets to play, before Stan, in typical Stanley fashion, tells them to shut the fuck up, and puts on his own playlist.

Stan has good music. Everyone finds themselves bopping along to the tunes, even singing when they know the words. Then, a song that Eddie and Beverly seem to feel passionately about starts playing because they both start yelling, clinging to each other and shaking.

"The fuck?" laughs Richie, watching in minor alarm at their reaction.

"It's ABBA!" Beverly cries, and Eddie keeps yelling for her to get ready as a synthesizer sounds through the room.

"Right, of course," Richie snorts, but he does recognize the song now. It's _Gimme Gimme Gimme_.

"HALF PAST TWELVE!" Eddie and Beverly scream loudly in time with the song. "WATCHING THE LATE SHOW, IN MY FLAT ALL ALONE, HOW I HATE TO SPEND THE EVENING ON MY OWN!"

By now the rest of the group is laughing, clapping. "We've got a live performance!" grins Mike. "Now this is far better than anything they had in Time's Square."

_Autumn winds blowin' outside the window_

_As I look around the room_

_And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom_

As Eddie and Beverly settle their voices into something that's less screaming, more singing, Richie lets his brain ponder over how much Eddie seems to love this song.

"There's not a soul out there," the two sing, grinning, using their empty champagne glasses as faux microphones. "No one to hear my praaaaayer!"

Richie's eyebrows visibly shoot up and he can't help but grin at the amount of energy currently being put into this performance. Eddie always has been incredibly hyper, he supposes.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away!" Eddie is belting the lyrics alongside Beverly, on point with every word. His singing falls flat every now and then, but that can be expected when you're half screaming and running out of breath. "Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight, take me through the darkness to the break of the day!"

_Movie stars_

_On end of the rainbow_

_With a fortune to win_

_It's so different from the world I'm living in_

Bill has forced Stan into dancing sloppily with him, and Mike manages to do the same with Ben. They dance messily as their friends sing, leaving Richie without a partner. On other occasions, Richie may have felt left out, but in this case, he's perfectly content to be left alone to just watch Eddie dance and sing.

"Tired of TV, I open the window and I gaze into the night, but there's nothing there to see, no one in sight!" Eddie's face is bright as he sings along. He looks rather carefree and happy, which is something you don't see often in a germaphobic hypochondriac. Richie sort of loves it, and he loves that Eddie gets to be like that around his friends, around Richie.

_There's not a soul out there_

_No one to hear my prayer_

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight_

_Won't somebody help me_

_Chase the shadows away_

As Eddie sings, he both looks and points directly at Richie, grinning through the lyrics. Richie feels himself flush as Eddie continues through the chorus, still pointing.

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight_

_Take me through the darkness_

_To the break of the day_

Flustered, Richie doesn't know what to do. Eddie rolls his eyes, laughing through the instrumentals.

"Come on, Trashmouth!" he says, and then he's grabbing Richie's arm and pulling him to his feet. "You can't be the only one sitting down alone!"

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight  
_

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight_

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" Richie splutters, and Eddie groans.

"Anything!"

"Figure it out before the instrumentals are over!" Bev chides, and so Eddie decides to jump on Richie's back.

"Jesus /Christ,/ Eddie!" Richie stumbles, hooking his hands under Eddie's knees, holding him up for the second time tonight. "Some warning!"

"Spontaneity is the key to a good show!" Beverly cheers, and then they're singing again, Eddie belting next to Richie's ear, one arm around his neck and the other holding up his champagne glass microphone.

"THERE'S NOT A SOUL OUT THERE," they sing, "NO ONE TO HEAR MY PRAAAAAYER..."

"Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?" everyone is joining in to sing the final chorus, even Richie. It's exhilarating, in a way. "Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Take me through the darkness to the break of the day!"

As the last lines of the song fade out, Richie somewhat exhaustively drops Eddie onto the reading chair, while the shorter boy giggles in that stupid, unfairly adorable way of his. Richie slides down to the floor, back leaning against the front of the chair between Eddie's calves.

Stan, Bill, Mike and Ben all clap and cheer while Beverly bows, and Eddie does the same from the chair.

"See, Rich? Fun!" Eddie gives Richie's head a bit of a shove in front of him. "Don't poop your own party."

"Never say that again," Ben says while Richie slaps away Eddie's prodding hands.

"Need your inhaler, Spaghetti?" Richie asks, half teasing, half genuine. He knows the inhaler Eddie has is bullshit, just another placebo medication put in place by his mother. But nevertheless, it makes Eddie feel better. Richie even carries a spare for him in his backpack, just in case Eddie needs something to lean on in any potential moment of panic.

But this time Eddie ponders it, breathing hard as he recovers from his show. "I thought you thought my inhaler was bullshit."

"I do... but you don't."

Eddie pulls his lip into his teeth, thinking. Then, "I don't need it."

Richie's eyebrows raise. He pushes up his glasses with a small smile. "Cool."

As Under Pressure by Queen starts playing, everyone settles back down into their seats, and Stan starts up a conversation about some girl who tried to hit on him at at Starbucks the other day.

"I'm pretty sure she was like, twelve," Stan says, visibly unnerved. "We were in a public space so I didn't really know what to do. Normally I probably would've just rolled my eyes and ignored her, but she had those somewhat psycho vibes, y'know? Like if I did that, she would've started screaming at me or something."

"Shrill voice?" asks Ben, and Stan nods. "Those ones are usually bad news."

"Exactly."

"So what did you do?" Bev asks.

"Honestly? All I did was tell her I was Jewish, and she seemed, like, /majorly/ horrified," Stan replies, and he seems a little perplexed still. "I was minorlyoffended, to be honest, but it was also really fucking funny. I can't even remember how it came up in conversation, but she left the wholeass Starbucks right after. She hadn't even bought anything."

Richie is on the _floor_ laughing. His extreme amusement only feeds into how hard everyone else is laughing, and even Stan is chuckling a little. 

"Richie, Jesus," Bill says through laughter. "Calm down, oh my God,"

Richie says something entirely incomprehensible in response.

"That's kinda a bitch thing to do," laughs Mike to Stan.

"I know, right?! Like damn, I know Judaism can get a little intense, but come on," Stan agrees.

"Yeah, at least you're not Mormon," Richie manages, and Ben chokes on his drink.

"You have zero filter, Richie," Eddie shoves at Richie's side with his foot. 

_If you had any idea how many times I've had to resist hugging you, you'd know I have more of a filter than I get credit for,_ Richie wants to say. Instead he pulls off Eddie's sock and throws it across the room, prompting the boy to cuss him out and then move to go get it. Richie steals his spot on the couch, prompting more cussing from the other side of the room.

"Just sit on his lap," Beverly says casually in response to Eddie's complaints.

"Don't even think about it," Richie points a finger at Eddie, and ignores the prick of regret in his heart.

"I wasn't about to," retorts Eddie. "I'll sit on all of you."

"You're not tall enough to span across all of us," Richie grins, and Eddie flicks him before flopping overtop of him, Bev, Stan and Bill (Richie would like to point out that Eddie's feet did not, in fact, reach Ben's lap at the end of the couch).

It's nearly 1am when Richie hears a very familiar song playing over the speakers. The ever-energetic group of Losers is not even close to settling down to sleep. Richie's neighbors probably hate him.

_Do I attract you?_

_Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?_

_Am I too dirty?_

_Am I too flirty?_

_Do I like what you like?_

"Hey Rich, isn't this that song you love?" Eddie asks him, stopping the game of "don't let the balloon touch the ground".

"Yeah," Richie answers simply, a little flushed. It's a love song that he relates a little too much with, but he also likes it because it doesn't sound like a sad love song, and more like a somewhat angry love song, which he thinks it is anyways.

_I could be wholesome_

_I could be loathsome_

_I guess I'm a little bit shy_

_Why don't you like me?_

_Why don't you like me without making me try?_

"I think it's time for a second performance!" grins Mike, and Richie shakes his head.

"No way."

"C'mon, Richie! Sing it!" encourages Bev.

Eddie cuts off Richie's protests and drags him by the arm up off the couch and to the centre of the living room. "I _know_ you can hit these notes."

"Maybe I could while going through puberty," Richie huffs, and he's sure his ears are burning red.

"As if you're not still in puberty," snorts Stan, and Richie swats at his head.

"The chorus is coming up, come on!" Eddie is still hanging onto his arm, bouncing up and down with a hopeful look on his face.

Jesus Christ, how can he say no to that face?

"Fine," Richie mumbles, and Bill tosses him an empty glass for a mic, just in time for the chorus.

"I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky!" Richie sings, and the room cheers loudly. "I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like! Gotta be green, gotta be mean, gotta be everything more! Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me? Why don't you walk out the door!"

"Hell yeah, Rich!" cheers Ben, and Richie grins through the lyrics.

"How can I help it? How can I help it? How can I help what you think?" Stan has joined Richie in singing, which makes Bill and Mike shriek with amusement. "Hello my baby, hello my baby, putting my life on the brink! Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me? Why don't you like yourself?"

Eddie's smiling so widely it must hurt. Mike has got Ben in some crazy arm-shaking dance that Richie laughs at, fumbling the next line of lyrics a little. Stan laughs at his mistake, and messes up himself.

_I try to be like Grace Kelly_

_But all her looks were too sad_

Richie locks eyes with Eddie as he sings, making Eddie bite back laughter as he stares back. Richie wonders if maybe that's weird, so he throws his head back on the last line before the chorus.

_So I tried a little Freddie_

_I've gone identity mad!_

The same exhilarating feeling from before comes back, stronger, and fueled by his friends. Richie kicks a balloon in emphasis to his performance, and it hits Bill in the face, which brings out that adorable little boy laugh that sometimes escapes Eddie when something is surprisingly funny.

"I could be brown, I could be blue, I could be violet sky! I could be hurtful, I could be purple, I could be anything you like!"

Bill, undeterred by the sudden latex attack, whistles as Stan hits a high note that brings applause from the whole room.

_Say what you want to satisfy yourself_

_But you only want what everybody else says you should want_

While Beverly rocks out with Ben and Mike, Bill and Eddie jam along a little while watching Richie headbang and dance, Stan rolling his eyes fondly. He's going full out, now that he's in the rhythm. It's really quite fun, especially with the way Eddie is smiling at him.

_Why don't you like me?_

_Why don't you like me?_

_Why don't you walk out the door!_

Richie has to stop to catch his breath as the chorus runs again for the last time. He tosses down his glass, running a hand through his hair. He sees Eddie preparing to sit down on the couch, and grabs his wrists.

"Oh, no. Song's not over, Eds," he grins, pulling Eddie back up. "Your turn to perform in my performance."

"Don't call me Eds," Eddie replies, but he's still smiling, letting Richie pull him into a dance that mimics Ben and Mike's from before. It's basically just Richie alternating pulling on Eddie's arms while Eddie cackles, but it's fun, and Eddie's flushing.

As the final line to the song is sung, Richie pulls Eddie dramatically into his chest, an arm on his back firmly holding him there.

"Oof," Eddie puffs as he slams into Richie's chest. "Dick. I don't want your germs."

"Oh no? You don't want my germs?" Richie holds Eddie tighter and goes to lick his face, still high on the energy. Eddie shrieks, struggling to escape.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE," he screams as the others laugh.

Richie continues to try, Eddie shoving desperately at his chest and face to get away, and only screams louder when Richie licks his hand.

"YOU'RE DISGUSTING!"

He stumbles backwards a few steps, Richie still clinging to him, the taller boy's weight seeming to throw him off balance a little. Suddenly there's an unmistakably rubber sound below them, and both boys are crashing to the ground, followed by a loud bang that makes Stan scream.

It only takes a second of alarm and yelling before a beat of silence, and then overwhelming laughter. Turns out, Eddie stepped on a balloon and fell, and then proceeded to land on it with Eddie on top of him, popping it and scaring the shit out of Stanley, who now has his head on Bill's shoulder and might be crying, but is probably just damning Richie and Eddie to hell.

Richie is laughing too hard to get off of Eddie, though normally he might have scrambled to do so. Eddie, however, is wheezing with his arms around Richie's back.

"I'm gonna fucking die, I can't breathe," he laughs breathlessly, patting Richie's back. "Richie, get off, I can't breathe."

Richie rolls off of him, his glasses falling off in the process. He lies next to Eddie, laughing and mostly blind, with one of Eddie's arms still underneath him.

"I know we're all losers, but I think the two of you are the biggest losers of all of us," laughs Beverly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Richie mocks aregal air, grinning from the floor. "Spaghetti and I are honored to be the leaders of this organization."

Eddie coughs and gives a thumbs up in agreement.

"As if you could lead this group," snorts Ben. "That's Bill's honor."

"And yet, Stan and Mike are the mom and dad friends," Bill grins at the two in question.

"Who's the mom?"

"Definitely Mike," Richie says. "Stan's like the super sarcastic dad who drinks only black coffee and insults his children."

"I can agree with that," nods Stan.

"Yeah, I can be the mom," Mike agrees with a chuckle. "I might need one of Eddie's fanny packs to carry around snacks and bandaids and sun lotion. I'll be a soccer mom!"

Richie sits up and rubs his eyes a little, and Eddie hands him his glasses. "Thanks."

Eddie sits up too, groaning. "I think I broke my tailbone."

"Nah, you're fine," Mike helps him up as Bill helps up Richie. "You wouldn't have been able to get up this easy."

"Thanks for cushioning my fall, Eddie," Richie makes a show of dusting himself off. "As effective as a pillow."

"Oh yeah, I'm happy to have helped," Eddie rolls his eyes. "That was one hundred percent your fault."

"Well I'd say it's about time we set up for bed," Beverly says before Richie can retort to Eddie, and Ben agrees with a yawn. "Rich, you said you have some air mattresses?"

"Yup, in my basement," Richie replies. "And one of us can sleep on the couch."

"Dibs," Bev calls. "Women's privileges."

Stan huffs. "Sexism," he hisses, making her laugh.

"Let's get those bad boys up here," Richie opens the door to his basement, beckoning for Bill to follow.

"I don't know how much I trust Richie's basement," Eddie mumbles as Richie leads Bill downstairs. "I bet there's a bunch of weird shit down there."

"It's not so bad," Richie calls up the stairs. "Your mom loves it down here, Eds!"

The whole group groans in unison. "Beep beep, Richie."

After an extended period of time in which there was a lot of swearing and yelling for people to "get off the God damn mattress, dipshit, I'm trying to inflate it!", two large air mattresses are laid out on Richie's living room floor, covered in pillows and blankets. Bev is stretched out across the couch under a soft blanket and a Star Trek pillow ("If you get the whole couch, you get an ugly pillow."), while the boys all share the two mattresses.

Another nature documentary is playing quietly on the TV as everyone sleeps. Well, almost everyone. Stan fell asleep almost immediately, and so did Bev. Ben read some comics on his phone before ultimately dropping it on his face and deciding to just close his eyes and crash. It always takes Eddie a longer time to settle in to sleep, what with all the energy he keeps in that tiny body, so he and Mike stayed up chatting for a while before eventually falling silent as they slept. Bill silently watched the documentary for a while, and the only way Richie could tell he was still awake without looking at him was from the few times Bill would shift next to him, rustling the blankets, until eventually he faded into stillness.

Now Richie is the only one lying awake, staring at the ceiling from his position between Eddie and Bill. He listens past the sound of the documentary narrator's voice, hearing his friends' gentle breathing around him.

His mind wanders to the day's events. They'd spent the daylight going indoor skating and window shopping, and eating discounted gingerbread cookies from the café near Bev's place. Then of course, they headed to Richie's place for New Year's Eve.

Richie thinks about Ben, about how much he must hurt inside, and he thinks about Bill and Bev. He's happy for them, of course. But he really feels for Ben. He hopes Ben knows that they're all there for him, even Richie himself. 

He thinks about Eddie. Eddie's smile and laugh, his gentle touches, and his more prominent touches. Eddie's hands in Richie's hair as he sits on his shoulders, Eddie's grin as he sings and points at Richie, Eddie's giggles as Richie pulls him into a dance, Eddie's body beneath his after they crash to the ground, arms around his back. And of course, Eddie soft lips pressing to Richie's cheek, and Eddie's hair tickling Richie's nose as Richie kisses Eddie's forehead. Richie's stomach flips just at the memory, and he's sure he can feel the spot Eddie kissed burning on his cheek again.

Richie hadn't even noticed that his gaze had fallen on Eddie's face until Eddie shifts, and Richie snaps out of his thoughts a little.

Richie is once again mesmerized by how serene Eddie looks while he's sleeping. His features are so smooth and relaxed, and the tension that his body maintains while awake melts away as he sleeps. Everyone else looks like this, too, Richie supposes. Bill, Stan, Bev, Ben, and Mike are all asleep too, muscles relaxed and faces gentle. Richie wonders what he looks like when he sleeps, if he too is able to let go of his worries and soften, if anyone has ever looked at his sleeping face and pondered the peaceful sort of beauty of it, if there was any at all.

A sense of carefree simplicity is something Richie doesn't think the Losers Club ever really gets to experience. They all carry stress with them, always, whether the reasons are the same, similar, or completely different. Bev and her father, Ben and his hidden emotions, Bill and his stutter, Stan and his religion, Mike and his survivor's guilt, Eddie and his germophobia, and Richie and his... well, his feelings. And of course, as Losers, they constantly carry the stress of being losers, feeling the targets on their backs and hearing the whispers and giggles around them.

It's all subconscious, mostly, when they're together and having fun. But Richie can see it still. In the way Stan grits his teeth when he spaces out, or how Mike bounces his leg without realizing, or how Bev flinches when a teacher raises their voice. Richie can also see how beautiful they would all look if that stress was gone, looking at their faces as they sleep.

None as beautiful as Eddie, he thinks.

Richie wishes desperately that he didn't find Eddie as beautiful as he does. Eddie with his big brown eyes and precious little nose, and skin and hands that are infinitely soft, and silky hair that he always styles but gets curly when it rains. These are all things Richie shouldn't notice, shouldn't spend his nights thinking about. Not about his best friend. Not about a boy.

He knows what the other boys at school call him, and he knows what the names mean. Sure, the rest of the boys in the group get called the names too, but they only really hit their mark when they're directed at Richie. Because with Richie, they're true.

Richie drags his eyes back to the ceiling and sighs. What would his parents think if they heard what the other kids call him? Would they feel sick, look at him with a sort of horror and disgust? Or would they defend him, telling the bullies off, because that couldn't, shouldn't, be true. Not about _their_ son.

He feels his throat tightening and his eyes stinging. He could burst into tears right now, like he does in the shower or in his room, or on occasion, in the staff bathroom at school when he can't help it and needs to ensure no other kids will find him. But with his six closest and only friends surrounding him, and with Bev and Stan being such light sleepers, there's no way he could cry now, or even get away with going upstairs. Or maybe he could. He thinks about Ben, and how himself, Stan, Mike and Eddie had been so immediately ready to come to the boy's aid, and wonders if they'd come to his side too, or would they be just as horrified as they would have the right to be if they learned the truth?

So Richie only lets one tear fall before rolling on his side to face Bill's back, and forces himself into a sleep that probably won't consist of any good dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you hear "spin the bottle" and think they would kiss? Did you think I only wrote fluff?? You Were Wrong
> 
> In actuality though I'm so sorry lol I kinda did an angst dump at the end here. It was about time. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave a comment and maybe some kudos, too! <3
> 
> Songs in this chapter are "Gimme Gimme Gimme" by ABBA and "Grace Kelly" by MIKA
> 
> https://graceful-and-spaceful.tumblr.com/post/188690227853/your-dirty-little-secret-meemerleemer-it


	5. Age 15 - Richie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie seems like the type of person who just says whatever he's thinking, who can overshare sometimes, and doesn't hide anything from his friends. And that's exactly how he wants to seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mini chapter mostly written by Danni that I wanted to include so that I can kind of set the tone for The Way That Richie Is. 
> 
> I know this is a really fast update but like it was done so I figured I'd just get it up there

"Mom? Dad?" Richie hears himself call, as if from underwater. He doesn't get an answer, confirming his suspicions that he's alone in the house.

He doesn't bother kicking off his shoes or even dropping his backpack, just running up the stairs two at a time to his room, door clicking shut behind himself. It's difficult as hell to catch his breath and dimly, he realizes that it's rare for him to get so worked up like this.

The incident had happened just after school, before he even had the chance to catch up with his friends. He had been cornered by Hockstetter and his cronies, slurs thrown like rocks at him.

_Shouldn't I be able to brush this off?_ he thinks, while plopping down heavily onto his comforter like a sack of bricks.

The fact that he can't seem to get it out of his head makes him spiral anymore. If it wasn't true, it wouldn't affect him like this.

He remembers the slur being tossed at his last Thanksgiving. His grandmother, all strong opinions and contradictions, claiming proudly that she had cut off all contact with her _homosexual_ nephew.

The word even felt dirty in his mind, making him curl into a ball and shoving his glasses off. The world became fuzzy around him, matching the clarity of his thoughts.

Fragmented and unfocused. 

He never made it to the meeting spot with the other Losers. Would they even notice he was gone? Probably not.

Who would want a trashmouth around them anyways?

A trashmouth who stares too long at the other boys in class.

Who cries himself to sleep more nights than he cares to admit.

They would hate him even more if they knew. That little pity they have that keeps him around would shatter, and he'd be left alone again.

Okay, so maybe that's not entirely true, the whole pity thing. Richie trusts that his friends _do_ actually like him. He's far too insufferable to be kept around out of pity, so they must like him at least a little. But still, a strangled sob rips from his throat like a bandaid, scaring himself from its volume.

He doesn't know how much time passes as he lays there.

But what he does know, is that no one can know. Not Bev, not Mike, Bill, Ben, Stan or Eddie.

Eddie.

_Eddie._

Just the thought of him makes Richie wince, hands reaching up to grip his hair, desperate for anything to hold on to.

Eddie with his wonderful smile and horribly messy handwriting, and expressive eyes and-

Before he can dwell too much on him, Richie forces the thoughts out of his head, knowing how disgusted Eddie would be if he ever knew that Richie thought of him like that.

That he could ever possibly think about sharing a hammock with him, not because he simply just won't get out. Reading comic books together or crossing the stream and hearing Eddie whine about how his socks will get wet.

He hears a car pull into the driveway and is filled with panic. He knows he has to talk to his parents once they get inside, answer the inevitable question of _"__how was your day?"_

So before they get inside, he moves to the bathroom and washes off his face, putting his glasses back on. His eyes are red and his hair is a mess, but he practices a smile in the mirror.

It's fake, but it looks alright. He has enough experience faking smiles to know what passes and what doesn't. That being said, it's not to say that all his smiles are fake. Richie isn't about to go convincing himself that none of his smiles match how he's feeling. He _does_ really smile when he's with his friends, they _do_ really make him laugh, and he _does really feel good _when he's around them.

But there are still those times when he'll catch himself staring too long at Eddie, or taking note of how nice of a smile the male substitute teacher has, or finds himself chewing his lip when a guy in a movie takes off his shirt, and the voices in his head start screaming, ripping him apart. _Don't look at the other boys, Richie. Don't touch the other boys, Richie. Don't let them know, they can't ever know._

And so Richie's smile will fade when his friends aren't looking, only to come back a split second later, paired with a dumb joke, and missing the feeling it had before.

Richie walks out to the kitchen, where his mom is setting her purse down on the kitchen table and his dad is typing something on his phone.

"Hello Richie."

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey. You're home early."

"We were gonna have a date night, so we came home to change before heading out again."

"Cool."

"How was your day?"

"It was fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i.,,.::, i fuckign lomve h imn


	6. Age 15 - Eddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Richie's birthday, and Eddie really needs to come up with a gift idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took. So long. And I feel kind of meh about this chapter, but here it is anyways! I hope everyone is having a really good winter break, if you have one, and a really good Christmas or Hannukah if you celebrate either, and in general just a really good holiday season.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK TO DO!!"

"Okay, first off, I need you to take it from up here, to way the fuck down here," Stan says, displaying two levels with his hand that vastly differ in height. "And second, why are you freaking out about this so much?"

"Because the birthday party is tomorrow, Stan, and his birthday is today, and I don't have a gift, or even a clue of what to give him as a gift!" Eddie's hands are flailing as he talks. "And I have no more goddamn money because I spent it all on Christmas, and what I had leftover from that, I spent on Bev's gift card for a manicure!!"

Stan rubs his temples. "Why oh why did you come to me for this? I hate Richie."

"You don't hate Richie."

"I don't like Richie."

"You love Richie."

"Only because he's one of my closest friends."

Eddie makes a "that didn't even make sense" face, and Stan sighs.

"Look, I got Richie a jumbo chocolate bar, pair of neon orange shoelaces, and a button that says 'fuck you' for his birthday, and he's going to love it. You could get him a plastic bag for his birthday, and he'd be thrilled just to recieve a material possession."

"Wait, you got him a button that says 'fuck you'?" Eddie asks. "Won't he get in trouble if he wears that to school?"

Stan shrugs. "That's the goal, because I know he won't even hesitate to put it on the front of his denim jacket and wear it to school. He'll probably point it out to the teachers."

Eddie smiles at the thought. Richie will absolutely do that.

"So can you please stop screaming at me about this at nine in the morning on a Wednesday in the boys restroom when we should be in our English class?" Stan begs, pushing Eddie by the shoulders out of the bathroom. "Richie and Bill are gonna be wondering where we are."

"Ugggghhhhhhhhhhhh," Eddie groans as he is forcibly removed from the room. "That didn't help at all."

Richie and Bill are indeed waiting for the two of them when they zip into the classroom with two minutes to spare before class begins.

"Happy birthday, Rich!" Eddie grins as he sits down at his desk between Richie and Bill. Richie smiles back.

"Thanks, Spaghetti!" he says. "Ready to be younger than me for another seven months?"

Bill snorts while Eddie makes a face. Richie has always rubbed it in to Eddie about how he can only be the same age as him for five months before Richie's older than him again. Eddie's the youngest of them all, which is the only reason, he's sure.

"You're gonna die first, fucker," Eddie replies, like he always does. Richie just laughs.

"Happy birthday Richie," Stan says with a smile. "One year closer to death."

"You can't wait, can you, Stan?" Bill laughs, and Stan shrugs.

"It'll be worth it."

"Hey, fuck you," Richie scoffs, but Stan pats his back before sitting down in his desk on Bill's other side.

As time passes, Eddie finds that his gaze keeps falling on Richie while the teacher gives a lecture on essay writing. He absently chews his lip, desperately trying to come up with a gift that he can get in time for tomorrow.

What does Richie like? Eddie subconsciously scrunches up his face. Richie likes to tease Eddie. He likes the arcade... but Eddie did something to do with the arcade for Christmas. He doesn't want to do that twice in a row, he can do better. But what?

He studies the way Richie twirls his pencil as he stares ahead, probably bored out of his mind. Books are definitely off the table for gifts. There are a series of colourful bracelets on his arm, made of plastic thread, beads, string, rubber, he's pretty sure there's a Rainbow Loom bracelet too. Eddie spots a particular bracelet that he recognizes. It's one of those rubber bracelets like the ones you get from companies at fesitvals to promote themselves, but this one is just an American flag print. Richie had found it a number of months back by the quarry, lying on the ground in the grass. Of course, Richie had kept it, despite Eddie's warning about how Richie had no idea who touched it last and what kind of diseases they could have been carrying.

Eddie smiles. He remembers that day. It had been so much fun - the group had a picnic up on the ledge before jumping down into the water, then lounging by the shore. Richie had spent almost two hours skipping rocks, and lording over Eddie and Bill when they admitted they couldn't do it. Eddie remembers thinking that Richie was having way too much fun doing such a mundane task as skipping rocks, but he really seemed like he enjoyed it. He had looked upset when he couldn't find any more rocks to skip.

An idea hits him like a bus. Rocks. Skipping rocks. Perfect ones. Smooth, round, semi-flat. Maybe a little something else too, something that would at least cost a little bit of money. He almost starts grinning proudly at his idea. But would it be too cheap? Would Richie think it's dumb? He needs to ask Bev for approval. He pulls out his phone, opening his messaging app to text her.

(It should be noted that for their group chat, they all use a separate app, because Eddie, Stan and Ben have Androids, and there is no shortage of teasing from the others. Especially from Richie.)

To: Bevvy

I have an idea for Richie's birthday gift

From: Bevvy

Aren't you in class lmao

To: Bevvy

Aren't you?

From: Bevvy

Touche

What's your idea

To: Bevvy

I want to go to the river and get him a bunch of rocks that he can skip

And something else too but idk what

I'll ask Stan probably

From: Bevvy

Omg that's an incredible idea

He'll love that so much because he's a loser lol

To: Bevvy

Lol

From: Bevvy

I think I have a velvet bag you can use

It's blue

To: Bevvy

Really??? Omg thank you

From: Bevvy

Are you gonna go to the river tonight then?

I can bring you the bag there if you are

I can probably get Bill to come help find rocks too

To: Bevvy

That would be awesome

Thanks so much Bev

From: Bevvy

No problem b

Let me know what Stan says

"Mr. Kaspbrak, is there something on your phone that you consider more important than this class?"

Eddie jumps at the sound of his teacher's voice, looking up to where he has raised an eyebrow at him.

"No," Eddie says quickly, shutting off his phone and sticking back in his hoodie pocket. "Sorry."

Bill and Stan exchange amused looks while Eddie blushes under Richie's smirking gaze. It's a good thing his English teacher is so chill. His math teacher probably would have thrown his phone out a window.

The lecture finally ends, and the class is given a worksheet to work on for the rest of the period. So in other words, the students can now talk amongst themselves.

"What _were_ you doing on your phone, Eddie?" asks Stan, and Eddie shrugs.

"Just texting Bev. I was asking her about the lab we have due tomorrow in Chem."

"It couldn't have waited untill literally in forty minutes when you'll see her?" Bill snorts, and Eddie shrugs again.

"I don't trust myself to remember."

"Wise," Richie nods, and Eddie flips him off.

Eddie can't find time away from Richie until school is over. Usually everyone would hang out for a bit, especially since it's Richie's birthday, but the whole reason they all planned the party for tomorrow and not Richie's actual birthday was because Richie has to stay after school today because he has an appointment with his guidance counselor (that and because tomorrow is a half day due to Meet the Teacher for the start of the second semester).

The friends all hug Richie, saying one more "Happy birthday" and then for the most part they say goodbye to each other too, and head their seperate ways. Actually, it's just Ben and Mike leaving at this point, and Eddie feels bad for not filling them in on his gift idea, but Ben isn't good at keeping secrets. He knows this about himself, however, and often jokes about it, so Eddie is sure he would understand. And Mike is just so understanding in general that Eddie isn't too worried. He might send Mike a text later to let him know what's going on.

"Bev says you came up with an idea for Richie," Stan says to Eddie once the four of them are alone.

"I want to give him a bunch of skipping rocks," Eddie explains. "You know, like, smooth, round, flat-ish rocks that he can skip. 'Cuz I know he loves to skip rocks, and I think it's kinda creative and thoughtful. So I was hoping you guys would come to the river with me and help find some. And I'll probably add something else as well, and Bev says she has a bag I can put the rocks in. So."

"Okay, th-that's actually really cute," Bill says, and Eddie blushes a little.

"It's not cute, it's just a birthday gift."

"It's pretty cute," Stan agrees, and Beverly giggles.

"So you'll help?" Eddie huffs, moving on.

"Absolutely," grins Bill, and Stan nods too.

"I'll run home and get that bag for you," she says. "I'll meet you three at the river?"

"Sure thing," replies Stan in agreement with the others.

"Thanks so much, Bevvy," Eddie smiles.

"No problem!" she beams, and then she's jogging off, waving over her shoulder. "See you soon!"

"Let's get to it th-then, boys," Bill claps his hands together once Beverly is out of sight. "Onwards t-to the river!"

"I hate this. I hate this so much. This is horrible. Richie is not worth this."

Eddie rolls his eyes as Stan breathes into his hands for the fourth time in the past minute. "Yes he is, it's his birthday."

"But he's not worth it otherwise?" Bill raises an eyebrow teasingly from where he's crouched by a log.

"Don't twist my words, Denbrough!"

The three boys are still scouring the rocky shores of the river for skipping stones, their pockets becoming increasingly heavy with every successful find. Beverly is still getting the bag she promised Eddie, but should be here any minute.

To Stanley's credit, it is horrendously cold out. February tends to be Derry's coldest month. The air is always the type of cold that hurts and makes your eyes water, and burns your nose when you inhale.

"My ears are going to fall off," Stanley continues. "Richie better fucking appreciate your gift."

"I hope he does," Eddie says genuinely, examining a stone before deeming it unworthy and discarding it back onto the ground. "I'm worried he'll think it's cheap."

"In my opinion, the best gifts are the ones that cost no money," Bill assures him. "Don't worry, Eddie, I'm sure Richie will love it."

"I'll get him some of those grossly sweet lollipops that he loves so much as well," Eddie muses, tossing a stone. "He'll definitely like that."

"Hey guys!" comes a voice, and all three of them turn to see Beverly approaching them in her puffy green jacket.

"Hey Bev," Bill greets her with a quick peck on the lips, which she reciprocates with a smile.

"Welcome to our frostbite endeavour," Stan huffs bitterly, and Beverly laughs.

"Did you get the bag?" Eddie asks her, coming to her side.

"Sure did," she grins, and pulls out a velvety blue bag the perfect size for a bunch of rocks. "Think this will do?"

"That'll be fantastic!" Eddie beams excitedly. He, Stan and Bill all empty their pockets into the bag. "Only a few more rocks to fill it, then we can head home."

"Feels good to get that weight out of my jacket," Stan exhales, rolling his shoulders. "Literally hauling around rocks."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I took so long," apologizes Bev. "My dad..." She trails off, biting her lip, and Bill takes her hand.

"It's okay, Bev," he says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, we weren't upset."

Stan agrees. "It was great of you to go and get that."

Beverly doesn't talk about her dad often, but they all know that her situation is horrible. Too often does she come to school with marks on her jaw or wrist from where her father would grip her too hard. It's also no secret to them why she cut her hair from the long copper waterfall it used to be to the short, wispy curls it is now. She initially seemed to be on the fence about it, but everyone assured her of how gorgeous and fitting it was, and she now seems to like it just as much as they do. And fortunately, her father doesn't.

"Well, anyways, I'll help you guys keep looking now," Beverly clears her throat, then smiles. "Thanks guys."

With four of them now, it only takes about fifteen more minutes for them to find all the rocks they need to fill the bag. It's really quite visually pleasing, if a little heavy.

"He's going to adore this, Eddie, this is so cute," Bev smiles, and Eddie blushes a little.

"Yeah, well, let's hope so, because if he doesn't, Stan might kill him and then me," Eddie chuckles, and Stan grunts.

"Damn right."

"Let's get going before the weather kills us first," says Bill, and they all agree, hurriedly brushing through the snow-dusted bushes and dead grass back to main street, where they say goodbye and head home. Except for Eddie.

Eddie stops by the small, somewhat shady gas station on the corner, and buys seven of the lollipops Richie loves. The pink, yellow and blue ones that appear to be made solely of sugar and sugar-flavoured flavouring that make Eddie's teeth hurt just from looking at them.

Disgusting. He smiles. That's so Richie.

"You're back late," his mother says from her semi-permanent spot in the armchair in the living room the second Eddie walks through the door.

"It's only six," Eddie mumbles, quickly hanging up his coat and kicking off his shoes.

"What were you doing?"

"Uh... I was just getting Richie's gift. For his birthday party tomorrow."

His mother regards this, eyeing Eddie up and down where he stands in the living room doorway, shifting his weight and waiting for permission to leave.

"Your cheeks are red, so are your ears and nose," Mrs. Kaspbrak observes in the warning tone she puts on whenever she's decided Eddie's health is in danger. "That means you've been outside too long."

Eddie winces. "I just- I just had to walk here, I really wasn't out that long-"

"Eddie," she interrupts him, and he freezes. "You /know/ how susceptible you are to the cold. You could get pneumonia, and pneumonia kills. You don't want that, do you?"

Eddie swallows, and his head twitches in a single shake, "No." He doesn't want pneumonia.

"I should keep you home tomorrow to make sure you don't already have it."

"Wh- no!" Eddie's eyes go wide with alarm. "N-no, no Mummy, I'm okay, I... I don't have pneumonia."

"Eddie..."

"If I start to not feel good, I'll stay home, I promise. But I'm fine."

Mrs. Kaspbrak seems unconvinced, her eyes narrowing and continuing to regard Eddie thoughtfully. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, and she sighs.

"Fine," she huffs, and Eddie slumps in relief. "But go take two and a half teaspoons of cold medicine, and make yourself a cup of the orange drink that prevents colds. Drink it all."

"Yes, I will," he smiles, already heading to the kitchen. "Thank you Mummy, I love you!"

After swallowing two and a half teaspoons of foul-tasting syrup and downing a glass of a somewhat grainy orange drink, Eddie sits down at the kitchen table to ponder what he can do for a card. Printer paper and marker seems childish, and Bill and Ben are the artists of the group. Eddie has -3 artistic skills. Eventually he remembers seeing a box of Christmas stuff in the laundry room, and figures he can find a tag or something in there.

After relocating the box, he finds a perfect tag for his gift, a small white tabbed square with white ribbon. That'll work fine. It's not exactly a card, but it's something. He uncaps his Sharpie and writes Richie's name, but it seems incomplete.

_What else should I add to it? _Eddie wonders, and chews his lip in thought. He adds "From Eddie" but still it seems plain. _What would Bev do? Bev would... draw a heart. Is that weird? Would it be weird for me to draw a heart?_ He hesitates, but then draws a heart next to his own name.

"Not weird if it's next to _my_ name, right?" he mutters under his breath, examining the tag and feeling an odd prickle of heat in his cheeks. After a pause, he shakes his head. "Nah. Not weird. Definitely not weird."

Eddie drops four of the lollipops into the bag, and tightens the opening of the bag around the remaining three so they stick out almost like a bouquet. He loops the tag around too, and studies his finished gift. Satisfied, he decides to take a shower before heading to bed, or at least before lying awake in his bed scrolling through Instagram for three more hours, and _then_ falling asleep.

There's nothing quite like a Losers party. They never involve expensive food or a fancy venue, and rarely even any activity that has to be paid for. But they're always more fun than any high level party could be, Eddie thinks. Because everyone is always there, always included, and always smiling. Richie's birthday party is no exception.

Every birthday party is different. For example, last month for Beverly's birthday, Stan booked a room at the library, and Bill led her there with a blindfold (and no shortage of suggestive jokes from Richie), where she was met with all her friends standing in a room decorated from floor to ceiling with streamers and balloons in varying shades of pink. On the table was a store-bought cake reading "Happy Birthday Bev" and a nicely wrapped box containing the polaroid camera Beverly had wanted so badly, which they had all chipped in on buying (Eddie is taking all the credit for the nice wrapping, by the way). They had eaten cake, chatted, played Cards Against Humanity, and Ben even convinced one of his librarian friends to let them borrow the projector to connect to Bill's laptop and watch 27 Dresses. It was very simple, and a total blast.

Alternatively, for Eddie's birthday back in September, all he wanted to do was marathon the Lord Of The Rings series in Bill's movie room, so everyone brought the gifts and simple deep dish chocolate cake there, and that was the party. Stan, Mike, and Ben, all summer babies, usually have their parties outside somewhere. Stan likes picnics, Ben's lines up nicely with the fair that visits town, and Mike's family always lets them visit the farm, so they usually camp out in the barn with a fire, loud music, and Stan's allergies.

This year, for Richie, it's freezing outside as it usually is in February, so everyone is curled up in Bill's house, because of course it's the location of choice for most winter birthday parties. He has a fireplace.

They've all just piled in after their half day of school. Bill's mother left them a giant homemade charcuterie board complete with various cheeses, crackers, and meat, as well as grapes and a few tasteful pieces of salted dark chocolate. The board, along with their somewhat less classy glasses of pop, sits on the coffee table, under which are all the gifts for Richie. The kids all snack and sip while they chat and laugh as The Office plays on the TV above the fireplace; a show they can glance at and laugh every now and then, but don't have to dedicate any attention to. Nobody would ever think this is a special event, but to the Losers (and especially to Richie, Eddie is sure), it's everything they could ask for.

Richie isn't exactly patient, and Eddie can't help but chuckle as he notices Richie's leg bouncing in anticipation as he eyes the gifts. Finally Beverly calls him out on it, and everyone laughs.

"We don't have to yet," Richie says when Bill proposes opening the gifts. "I don't want to like, rush through this party or anything."

"We've been here since one o'clock, man, that was three hours ago," Mike laughs reassuringly. "If we wait any longer we'll have to eat dinner in twenty minutes, then break the sound barrier to get home."

"Well," Bill chuckles, "th-that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the point is, we can open th-the gifts now."

So everyone retrieves their presents from under the coffee table, pulling them out and setting them around the floor at Richie's feet. Eddie tries to ignore the nervousness he feels.

Richie opens Bev's gift first, grinning wide as he fishes it out of its sparkly blue bag.

"Bev, no way," he holds up two boxes that clearly hold vinyl figures, but at the moment only Richie can see who they depict. "How the hell did you find these? I thought they weren't being sold anymore! This is amazing!"

"Admittedly, I needed help from Ben to find them online, and I'm not one hundred percent sure we obtained them legally," Beverly replies with a shrug and a grin. "But hey, they're here."

"Thanks so much, Bevvy, this is incredible."

The others all take a look at the figures as Richie hugs Beverly. Eddie smiles when he sees them. They're two of Richie's favourite superheroes from old, discontinued vintage comics. Some fire lady and a man in a suit with a gun. The last guy may have actually been a villain or something. Eddie never managed to keep up, but he remembers how excited Richie has gotten one day when he saw the figures on someone's instagram story, and how devastated he had been when he went to the mall to buy them, only to find that they'd been on a limited time offer special, and had sold out almost immediately.

Next comes Stan's gift, which Richie insults before immediately putting on the pin and switching the laces of his shoes, and then hugging him (Stanley complains, but it's half-hearted and Eddie sees the way Stan fails to suppress an exasperated smile as he hugs back). Richie then thanks Mike profusely after tearing away matte red wrapping paper to find three DVDs containing professionally filmed concerts of some of Richie's favourite bands.

"Oh my God, is that Panic! At the Disco?" Beverly gasps, looking over his shoulder. "I am absolutely going to come over one day and watch that with you, whether you like it or not."

"Hell yes it is, and hell yes you are!" Richie high fives her, then turns back to Mike. "Seriously Mikey, this is so cool. Thank you."

Eddie can't help but feel even more nervous about his gift. Richie has liked everyone else's _so much_, and he's worried that his will pale in comparison. It cost him basically nothing. Will Richie think he was being cheap? Or worse, that he didn't care enough? Or that he thought he'd done enough at Christmas, so he didn't need to bother with a thoughtful gift this time?

His progressing spiral is shaken a little when Richie picks up the bag and beams at the lollipops. "Aw, fuck yeah! I love these, Eds! You know me so well."

"Too well," Eddie huffs, masking his insecurity with folded arms. "Don't call me Eds."

"I like the tag," Richie says, fiddling with the little piece of paper as he reads it. Eddie notices the way his eyes linger on it far longer than it would take to read it, and his stomach plummets as he remembers the heart he put on it. Eddie _doesn't_ notice the blush that crawls up Richie's neck, however.

Richie opens the bag, and Eddie sees confusion pass over his face, before it breaks into a small, curious smile as he pulls out one of the stones. "These rocks all seem to have a theme... are they skipping stones?"

"I remembered that day at the quarry when you were skipping rocks, and how much you enjoyed it," Eddie can feel that he's blushing like mad, and keeps his eyes on his fidgeting hands. "I thought that it might be nice for you to have some ready next time we went so you didn't have to spend so much time searching, at least not right away. So... I went down to the river and collected some for you."

Eddie sees the way Bev is grinning, smushing her hands to her cheeks and mourning what would be an endeared squeal. Everyone is smiling, waiting on Richie's response. Richie just blinks at Eddie, lips parted in surprise.

"You... really remembered that?" he asks, softer than what's normal for his usual boisterous and joking character.

"Yeah. Um. I hope they're okay. If you remember, I wasn't very good, so I was kinda guessing at what they should look like."

"They- they're perfect," Richie is smiling wide, and seems... jittery? Is that it? "Thank you so much, Eddie. I love this."

Eddie visibly relaxes. "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Richie's usual demeanor is coming back as he jabs Eddie in the side, still grinning. "It's so thoughtful! Guess you do like me a little bit, huh?"

"Ugh."

"Thanks, Eddie Spaghetti," he says again. "Next time we go, I'll use some of these to teach you how to not suck."

"Fuck you," Eddie laughs, jabbing Richie back. Richie pushes his glasses up as he smiles, reaching for Bill's gift, and Eddie thinks to himself that he's very happy to have been the one to make Richie smile so brightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aksjlzjjsshjssksksjskzj is how /i/ feel, personally.

**Author's Note:**

> ahahhah wow


End file.
